


Abroad

by bibliosoph



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Idiots in Love, M/M, Panic, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosoph/pseuds/bibliosoph
Summary: Alex hates his semester abroad in London. There's no good coffee, the accents drive him up the wall, and the weather makes him even more miserable. He's certain that he'll carry on hating it forever until fate steps in and introduces him to Pez and Henry. Henry, the pretentious knob in his literature class. Henry who, apparently, is actually a lot different than Alex assumed. They become fast friends which is great. And totally explains why Alex is jealous of Henry's new boyfriend.Right?
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz & June Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Percy "Pez" Okonjo
Comments: 66
Kudos: 228





	1. One

For about the third time that week, Alex was driving himself insane with regret. He could have gone anywhere for his semester abroad. Italy. France. Mexico. There were so many amazing choices, but of course Nora wanted to do London, so Alex had gone with her because they had agreed to study abroad together back in the day and Alex had no idea where else they could go. And now, after a month in London, he realized how much he hated this city. It was always grey and raining and all of the people were either too fucking polite or too fucking rude. It was all British pleasantries or British sarcasm and general rudeness and indifference. It was probably because he was American and they, on average, tended to not like Americans much. That was fine, though. He didn't particularly like the British, either. So, not only did the people and the weather objectively suck, but he couldn't, for the life of him, find a halfway decent cup of coffee. Even the Starbucks shops in London were lacking.

Tonight, Nora was going to drag him to a party that he really didn't want to go to. He missed his friends from home too much. Missed his family. Missed America. He really didn't want to go waste his time having to make small talk with a bunch of British people that didn't even want to meet him. A bunch of people he didn't want to meet, either. But Nora, who was, of course, thriving in London, told him that the party was non-negotiable. She said it would be fun, which he knew was a lie, and that, at the very worst, he got free drinks. That was the only reason he decided to go, actually. The promise of alcohol that could help numb him, warm him, if only for a while.

"You could try to have fun," Nora said, approaching him after ten minutes of the party. It was in full swing since they'd shown up late. It was in someone's, someone who was probably named Roger or Benedict or something British, apartment. It was one of Nora's friends from a statistics class she was taking.

"Or," Alex said, flashing her an evil grin, "I could just get drunk and ignore everyone."

Nora rolled her eyes. "Alex, you're not going to get anything out of this experience if you don't at least try to have fun. So, pull your head out of your ass and go talk to people. You're making me look lame."

She walked off to go find her friends, leaving Alex alone by the drinks table again. He didn't mind it, though. Better to be alone than to have to talk to any of these infuriating people. He took a sip of his drink and watched the party carry on—no one giving two shits about him. That was the problem with being here in London. No one cared about him. He didn't have anyone to care about. He had Nora, yeah, but she was practically family. It wasn't something new and exciting or revolutionary. And he was also still mad at her for bringing him to this stupid continent and this stupid party, so it wasn't like he was going to go try to talk to her.

"Can I just say," a voice from his side said, "that you have a truly lovely complexion."

He turned and saw a guy standing next to him with a big, bright smile on his face. He was darker than Alex but his pastel clothing made him seem very bright. Alex wasn't sure what to make of him. He was British, which made Alex want to throttle him, but he was also really different. Everyone else at the party was wearing dark, skin tight clothing and looked too monotonous, but this guy was going full out with bright, pastel colors that provided a much needed disruption to the sad color scape of this dreadful party. He seemed interesting, too, based on the strange "hello."

"Uh, thanks?" Alex replied, not knowing how to respond to that.

"So," the guy said, moving closer to Alex, "rough night?"

He sighed. "Rough month." 

The guy laughed. "Ah, American study abroad program? And, what? You're not enjoying our superior nation?"

Alex can't help but laugh at that. "What kind of country can't manage to make a fucking cup of coffee?"

"Because tea is the lifeblood of the world, my friend. It's you lot and your bloody frappuccinos that have gone and mucked it all up, sweetie."

"Shouldn't you be off having a good time?" Alex asked.

The guy raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you?"

Alex shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "Can't find anyone worth my time."

The guy rolled his eyes. "Until you met me, you mean."

Alex was about to respond with something witty when another guy sauntered over. He was tall with blonde hair, fair skin, and blue eyes that matched his baby blue sweater. Alex wanted to say something about how it was stupid and pretentious to wear a fucking sweater like that, cashmere, to a party, but he held his tongue because he was too busy trying to place the guy. He looked familiar, but Alex couldn't remember why. 

"Pez," the blonde guy said as he walked over, looking at the guy Alex had been talking to. Pez, he supposed. The blonde guy looked at Alex and stood up a bit straighter. "Ah, Alex."

Ah, so they had met before. Alex tried to piece it together, but the alcohol made his brain sluggish and foggy. He thought, maybe, that they shared a class together. Yes, that was it. A class. Literature. Nora had made him take it to "broaden his mind" but he hated every second of it. He much preferred classes like political science. While he may not have remembered a lot of what happened in the class, he did remember this guy. He sat in the front like a teacher's pet. Always had something pretentious and annoying to say––the kind of thing that made everyone else in the class feel like a right idiot. 

"Humphrey," Alex said with a curt nod. 

"Henry," he corrected.

Alex shrugged and took another sip, really not interested in talking to this guy anymore. 

"Pez," Henry said, turning towards Pez again, "are you ready to go?"

"I was just about to ask my new friend Alex here if he wanted to come with us," Pez said, throwing his arm around Alex's shoulder. "What do you say, darling? Care for an adventure?"

Alex didn't want to stay at the party, but he also really didn't want to have to spend any time with Henry, either. He seemed like a pretentious prick, the very kind that Alex was actively avoiding. Pez seemed nice enough, though, and it seemed like his idea of a fun night might have matched up pretty well with Alex's.

"Where would we go?" Alex asked.

"You don't––" Henry started. 

Pez cut him off. "There's a wonderful little spot nearby. A speakeasy. Very exclusive. We can start there and see where the night takes us."

That did sound a lot better than spending another minute at this terrible party, so Alex nodded. It was unfortunate that Henry would be there, too, but he could manage to play nice for a while. A few drinks would probably do Henry some good, anyway. Maybe, once he had some alcohol in his system, he would be more tolerable. Less closed off and ass-hole like. Possibly, with a lot of alcohol, he might even be fun. Since he was friends with Pez, Alex had to assume that there was some kind of redeeming quality of Henry's that Alex just hadn't seen yet. 

"Sounds like a good time," Alex nodded. "I'm in."

Henry tensed at his words but Pez nudged him to make him loosen up. 

"It'll be fun, Hen."

Henry rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Alex set his drink down and took Pez's outstretched hand, allowing him to lead both him and Henry out of the party. This was the kind of moment, the kind of night, that Alex had been waiting for. A break in his routine. Something new and exciting with someone he could actually tolerate for more than a minute. Maybe the night would end in disaster, but that was always part of the fun: the not knowing. The way things had been going for the past month left little to chance. He had class, he did his homework, and he hung out with Nora. He went out with her with enough prodding, but that was it. It was as boring as the grey skies that always loomed overhead. 

Tonight, though, Alex was going to let himself go with the flow. Let the night take them wherever it did. And, even though Stick-Up-His-Ass Henry was there, he was going to try, really try, to enjoy himself.


	2. Two

As soon as they got to the speakeasy, Alex went off to use the bathroom so Henry turned to Pez and glared at him.

"Why would you ask him to come with us?"

Pez frowned at him and raised an eyebrow. "He's hot and he looked lonely."

Henry huffed and ordered a drink before turning back to Henry. "Pez, do you know who that is?"

Pez shook his head, looking completely baffled. 

Henry sighed. "That's Alex Claremont-Diaz," he said. Pez blinked at him. "The guy from my literature class."

Pez stared at him blankly for another moment before gasping. "Oh, the one that you're in love with?"

Henry huffed at him and took his drink from the bar, holding it in his hands but not bringing it to his lips. "I'm not in love with him. I just––"

Pez laughed at him and put a hand on his shoulder, literally doubling over like this was all hilarious instead of extremely embarrassing. "Hen, you ranted for an hour about the complexity and beauty of his hair!"

Okay, well, that might have been correct, but it didn't matter. His crush on Alex Claremont-Diaz was fine because it was from a distance. He made sure to never talk to him or sit near him because he thought that, if he got too close or attached, he would burn up on impact. Alex was so infuriatingly American––loud, obnoxious, headstrong––but he always also so infuriatingly beautiful. It was a constant internal battle for Henry––hate him or love him. Literature was obviously not his strong suit, but he still always tried in class. Had the fucking audacity to challenge Henry on certain points. It didn't matter if Henry was always right, it was the principle of the thing. Alex was the sun and Henry never had sunglasses. It was blinding just to look at him, let alone try to speak to him without making a complete and utter pillock of himself. 

"I––look," he said, glaring at Pez, "I just don't want him here, okay? Get rid of him."

Pez frowned and hissed air through his teeth, nodding his head behind Henry. "I think he'll get the message."

With some kind of question on his lips, Henry, eyebrows furrowed, turned and saw Alex standing behind him, eyes narrow and fists clenched. His jaw was clenched and everything about his current stance and body language read that he was just angry at Henry, but his eyes gave him away. Hurt. Alex was hurt and offended and probably feeling pretty miserable about himself now and it was Henry's fault. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Alex turned on his heel and started to leave. Desperate, Henry turned back to Pez with his mouth open.

"I––"

"You need to fix this," Pez warned, wagging a finger at him. "He's a perfectly nice guy who is having a miserable time here and wants to make friends."

"He won't want to be my friend," Henry replied without blinking. No one really wanted to be his friend. Pez was his friend, his roommate, even, but it was more circumstantial than it was due to Henry's personality.

"You haven't given the poor guy a chance to find out!"

Well, that was true. Even though Henry knew that Alex probably wouldn't be keen on hanging out with him now, he knew that he had royally fucked up and that he had to try to fix things. It wouldn't kill him to apologize to him. Then, once he'd apologized, Alex could sleep well at night knowing that this wasn't his fault and that Henry was just a closed-off, dickish guy afraid of letting too many people in. Once that was done, he could go back and try to enjoy his evening with Pez and Alex could continue to hate him from a distance while Henry stole looks at him during literature and it could all go back to normal. And normal was fine. Normal was what kept Henry protected. 

The night was cool and wet. It wasn't really raining, but a few drops spat down from the sky every so often. Alex wasn't far from the speakeasy––he was seated on someone's steps. His head was in his hands and his phone was in one of them like he wanted desperately to call someone but had no one to talk to. Henry's heart jerked at the sight of it: Alex illuminated weakly by the streetlight, his hair falling in sad curls around his hands. Henry sighed and sat down next to him. 

"Find your own––" Alex pulled his head out of his hands and saw that it was Henry sitting next to him. He groaned. "First you say you want me gone, and now you follow me outside?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Un-fucking-believable."

Henry sighed and pulled his knees up against himself, resting his arms overtop them. "I'm sorry," he tried. "Truly. I obviously didn't mean for you to hear that."

"Wow, thanks. That makes me feel so much better."

Henry opened his mouth to say something, probably just to reiterate his apology, but Alex wouldn't let him speak. 

"This is what I hate about this fucking country and the stupid people," Alex huffed. "Y'all can't make up your minds. It's like half of you wants to be the rude, feelingless Brit, but the other half is too hung up on old pleasantries. It's fucking infuriating." He took a breath. "People actually liked me back home, you know? I was the life of the party. People asked me to hang out with them. And no one's liked me here or had any interest in me as a person until your friend Pez came over and started talking to me like I was an equal and not just some stupid American guy. And I don't care if you don't like me, but at least let your friend find out for himself."

Henry was torn between keeping his mask on and tearing it off forever. He wanted to protect himself––he was so good at hiding that it was often his go-to move. But Alex had been vulnerable with him even after Henry had behaved in such a manner, so he decided to repay him in kind. 

"I do like you," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I think you're an overconfident arsehole––"

"Hey!"

"But I like you. You're so very...yourself of all the time and it makes me angry because you don't really seem to care what other people think." He sighed. "And, well, all I do is care about what other people think."

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "So you hate me because you like me?"

"That sounds rather foolish, I suppose. I'll just––" He made a move to stand, but Alex grabbed his wrist. 

"No," he insisted, giving Henry's arm a tug. "I want you to stay."

Henry gave in and sat back down. 

"I think I judged you too quickly," Alex said. "I thought you were pretentious and unfeeling, and you are, but you're also..."

"Also what?" Henry really wanted to know. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat hinging on the answer. He didn't know what he was hoping for––beautiful? Lovely? Annoying? Honestly, any answer would do. Some adjective for him to hang onto for the next little while would be enough. 

"I don't know," Alex replied honestly. "I think you're hurting and I think that the whole pretentious thing is just an act you put up to protect yourself. Which I get. Big time. But I...I'm hurting too, you know? So maybe we'd both hurt a little less if we hurt together." He laughed. "I'm sorry. That sounded––"

"No," Henry insisted, moving so he could look into Alex's beautiful brown eyes. "I liked it. And I would like that very much."

Alex grinned at him and Henry felt some of the tension melt out of his shoulders. It wasn't everything he had ever wanted, but it was still Alex and that felt like enough.


	3. Three

The next time they had their literature class, Alex slid into the seat next to Henry. After their terrible turned fun night, he found himself thinking about Henry constantly. He'd really opened up to Alex after that discussion on the stairs, and Alex was there for it. Underneath his pretentious mask, Henry was really smart, funny, kind, and just lovely. Alex loved Pez, too, but he felt like he had a certain connection with Henry that night. So, in literature class, he wanted to see if that connection was still there when they were both sober. 

Henry smiled at him as Alex sat down next to him in the front row. "Joining me in the front row? How bold."

Alex rolled his eyes and got his materials out of his backpack. "Shut up. I'm only sitting here so I can copy your notes. I don't understand half of what the professor says."

"Well, in that case," Henry said, moving his notebook towards Alex a bit, "copy away."

When they weren't in class or getting food after, Alex made sure to text and Snapchat Henry throughout his day. Most of it was stupid stuff about the annoying things British people did, just to get a rise out of Henry. It was an easy friendship. Most of the time they kept things light-hearted and surface level, but, on occasion, they ended up having deeper conversations about things that had happened in their lives or questions they had about mortality and existence. Alex liked both, but he particularly liked it when he asked something that got Henry going on one of his rants. It was a wonderful sight: Henry with his eyes lit up and his mouth moving faster than Alex could ever keep up with. It didn't really matter what they talked about as long as Alex got to see that look on Henry's symmetrical face. 

As the days went on, he found himself talking and seeing Henry and Pez more than he did Nora. It was fine, of course, because they were both really happy now, but Alex did miss her sometimes. She was his dose of America amidst all of the British things that irked him. But it didn't get to him that much. Henry and Pez and their silly ideas kept him plenty busy. Since Henry and Pez lived together in an apartment (Alex refused to call it a flat and give into the culture) he spent a lot of time there. They did Star Wars movie marathons and watched Harry Potter together. The three of them would squish together on the small sofa and just lose themselves in the magic of film for a while before, inevitably, someone (usually Henry) got too tired and went to his room. Even though Alex was friends with Pez, he felt more like Henry's friend than Pez's so he usually left pretty soon after Henry retired for the evening. And, honestly, the movies weren't as fun without Henry's stupid commentary throughout them.

One night after a particularly hard day where Alex hadn't had the time to see Henry apart from class, Alex hit a rough patch. Earlier in the day, between classes, he had tried to send something stupid in his lacrosse team group chat but found that he had been removed from it. He had texted one of his friends on the team to ask why he wasn't in it anymore but the response didn't come until late that night once Alex had finally finished his homework and was allowing himself to watch some much-needed Netflix.

"Bc ur not here anymore" his friend had replied.

It hit Alex with a sudden clarity that, even when he went back home, things wouldn't be the same. His family would be glad to see him, of course, but the friends he had from the previous years were fading away while he was in London. It was, he supposed, his fault since he hadn't made much of an effort to keep in constant contact with them over the past few weeks, but he figured that things could go back to normal when he went home for second semester. Maybe he was stupid to believe that, to believe that his semester abroad was some sort of stupid bubble that existed apart from the rest of the world, but it hurt to come to terms with it. It was one thirty in the morning in London and Alex was curled up in a useless ball on his bed crying because there wasn't a single thing he could do about it. 

Without hesitation or thought, Alex picked up his phone and pressed on Henry's contact. They hadn't really called each other before unless it was to confirm a time to meet up for dinner, so Alex had no idea what to expect. Henry, bless his soul, picked up on the third ring.

"You know that feeling," Alex started without so much as a greeting, "when you realize that no one cares about you?"

"Alex?" 

"Or, like, people care. Your family cares. But that's it? And you're just, like, this particle floating randomly and you're so small and unimportant and no one would care if the wind just swept you far away?"

There was a pause on the other end. 

"Alex, what's going on? What are you on about? Are you drunk?"

Alex sighed and pushed himself up into a seated position. "No, H. I'm totally sober right now and I'm spiraling. Do you or do you not know what it's like to be a particle drifting aimlessly?"

"You're scaring me," Henry said, his voice heavy with sleep. "It's nearly two in the bloody morning on a Tuesday and you're calling me to––to what? Are you...Alex, are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No," Alex replied, feeling really bad that it had come across like that. "I swear. I'm just...my friends from home removed me from our group chat."

Henry sighed on the other end. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry. That must hurt."

"Yeah, it fucking sucks. I thought, when I found them, that I, like, finally had people in my corner that weren't legally bound to protect me or whatever. And I knew that coming here would make it hard to keep up with everything, but I thought...I thought it would all just go back to normal when I got home."

"It might," Henry offered. "They might see you and realize how much they missed you. They might just be hurt that you went away."

"I guess," he sighed. "I just wish people cared more."

"I care," Henry said, clearly very determined. "I care about you. Pez cares about you, too. And Nora. And your family."

Alex let out a watery laugh. He hadn't even realized he started crying again. "Yeah, yeah, I know. And I'm honestly so fucking lucky that I pulled my head out of my ass long enough to get to know you."

Henry chuckled. "Yes, well, it must have been quite difficult, what, with how long it had been in there."

Alex rolled his eyes but he felt a smile creep across his face. "H, can I tell you something that's totally insane?"

"Of course."

Alex took a deep breath. "I think––no, I know––you're my best friend. And, objectively, the best thing to have happened to me in this shit country."

Henry didn't say anything for a moment. Alex felt his heart pounding in his chest, so worried that he'd come on too strong and clingy and scared Henry off. What if admitting that made Henry think that Alex was crazy or desperate or sad? What if Henry stopped speaking to him because of it?

"Alex," Henry said, his voice measured and calculated, "you're my best friend, too."

Alex sighed in relief. "I mean, I don't want you to feel like you have to say it because I know that you and Pez––"

"Pez is a great friend," Henry explained, "my oldest friend. He's not...you're my best friend. And I care about you very deeply and my heart aches for you right now because you're sad about your old friends being complete and utter wankers. You are amazing, stupidly brave, and incredibly kind and if your friends from home can't appreciate it, they're all complete idiots. I mean that."

Alex was so thankful that Henry couldn't see the shit-eating grin on his face. "Aw, you're so sappy," he chided. 

"Yes, well."

Silence. A good kind of silence, though. The kind of silence that felt comfortable and cozy. 

"I think I can go to sleep now," Alex said. "You helped me. I mean, I still miss home like crazy, but London's growing on me because you're here with me."

"Who's the sap now?"

"Oh, shut up. Your country still can't make a decent burger."

"I'll have a word with the Queen about that, shall I?"

"I mean, isn't that was best friends are for?"

"Goodnight, Alex."

"Goodnight, Henry."

That night, hugging his phone to his chest, Alex slept better than he had since he came to London.


	4. Four

Whether or not Alex was aware of it, he was driving Henry absolutely insane. Every time they sat next to each other in class, got food, or went out together, Henry felt his crush on him grow deeper and deeper. There was too much for Henry to obsess about: the way Alex's hair looked when he had been anxiously tugging on it, his concentration face, or that dopey smile that spread across his face whenever he saw Henry (especially when drunk). There were moments, small ones, where Henry felt himself get consumed with such overwhelming feelings for Alex that he had to excuse himself. Often times these moments where when the three of them (he, Alex, and Pez) were curled up together on the sofa watching movies and Alex's head would absent-mindedly drift onto Henry's shoulder or maybe when he would rest his head in Henry's lap and put his feet on top of Pez. Each moment like this was then engraved in Henry's brain seemingly forever and it was starting to drive him insane. Most of his thoughts were of Alex even before that late night/early morning phone call. After that, it only got worse. Especially when Henry decided that his friend––his best friend now, apparently––needed a proper cheering up.

"So," Alex said as they started walking the night after that phone call, "where are you taking me?"

Henry shot him a mischievous smile. "If I told you, wouldn't that ruin the whole surprise bit of it?"

Alex shrugged. "I mean, I guess, but I kind of hate surprises. In my experiences, surprises are almost never good."

Henry rolled his eyes and nudged Alex with his shoulder. "Ye of little faith," he chuckled. "It's a good surprise. I promise."

Alex still seemed suspicious, but he smiled at Henry and it melted his heart. He'd spent so long building up walls that he was practically an impenetrable fortress that no one could get through. Somehow, though, Alex managed to crawl his way through his defenses with little to no effort. Maybe he had a map somehow, a map that Henry didn't recall getting made. But he had, despite all odds, managed to sneak his way through Henry's safeties and defenses and right into his heart. He'd taken up residence there and, in all honesty, Henry was living for it. He loved granting Alex access to the most private parts of him, the parts he never showed anyone else apart from, on occasion, Pez. 

"I'm sorry for calling you late," Alex said. "Or early, I guess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Alex. You never have to feel sorry for calling me. If I hadn't wanted to talk to you, I wouldn't have picked up."

Alex grinned at him and it went straight to Henry's stomach and made it bubble with warmth and nerves. God, did Alex even know what he was doing to Henry? Or was this just Alex being his usual self and beautifully oblivious to most things that happened around him? Well, whatever it was, it was driving Henry fucking mental in the best way possible.

"I meant it," Alex said, "when I said that you're my best friend. Just so you know."

"I know. Me too."

Alex smiled at him again and Henry had to fight the urge to reach out and hold his hand. It would have been easy––it was right there. So close. An inch or two away. To stop himself, he wrapped his arms around his chest, pretending he was cold. 

"Oh, are you cold?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Henry shrugged. "A bit." To be fair, he was a bit cold, but he was used to it by now. It was his own fault for not bringing a coat, anyway. 

Alex shrugged his jacket off and draped it around Henry's shoulders. "Here," he said, securing the fabric. 

Henry couldn't help but blush not only at the feelings of Alex's hands on him, but the smell of something so distinctly Alex that emanated from the coat. "Won't you be cold?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm wearing a long-sleeved shirt under my hoodie. I think I'll be fine."

They crossed the street and were suddenly at their destination. Henry turned to Alex and gestured at the diner. "Well, what do you think?"

Alex raised and eyebrow. "I think we're at a diner."

Henry rolled his eyes and pulled Alex towards the entrance. "Yes," he agreed, "but it's an American diner. I did some digging and found an article that said this place has the best burgers, 'fries,' and milkshakes in all of London. I thought...well, it's stupid, but I thought it might make you feel a little less homesick."

"Because I said you guys didn't make good burgers?"

Henry nodded in agreement. "Precisely. I thought I would find a place that––oh!"

Alex had, in the middle of Henry's sentence, pulled Henry in for a giant hug. Since Alex was quite a bit shorter than Henry, his head rested against Henry's chest and Henry's head settled on top of Alex's. He threw his arms over Alex and pulled him against Henry with all the strength he could muster, slowly rubbing Alex's back at the hug lingered. When Alex pulled away, that smile on his face and blush on his cheeks, Henry realized that this wasn't just a crush anymore.

He was falling in love with Alex and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

"Sorry," Alex said after a moment of silence. Henry was too rattled to speak. "Just...thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

Henry smiled back at him. "Well, clearly you have low standards if going to a diner makes your top sweetest things list."

Alex shrugged and opened the door, holding it open to Henry. Henry gave him a curt nod in thanks, trying desperately to get the feel of Alex's arms around him out of his mind. Alex had been so warm and comfortable and Henry was still wearing his jacket so the smell of Alex was all around him. It was getting to be too much so he wordlessly handed the jacket back to Alex who took it with a smile and carried it to a little booth. They sat across from each other for a moment, looking around at the corny American-furnished diner complete with retro black and white tiled floors and red vinyl booths. A woman in an old drive-in diner uniform came up to hand them giant, plastic cased menus. 

"So American," Henry noted as his eyes skimmed over the menu.

Alex squinted at it then put his menu down and fished around in his pockets for a moment and produced a small glasses case. He opened it and put a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his face and picked up the menu again like this wasn't a total surprise to Henry. 

"Y––you wear glasses?" Henry gaped. 

Alex looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I try not to wear them in class or in public or whatever because they're super embarrassing and ugly, but yeah."

Henry wanted to shake him and tell him that they weren't embarrassing or ugly at all. Though he had never considered himself a glasses kind of man, Henry found the sight of Alex with those frames extremely sexy and somehow also adorable. He had a clear image of kissing Alex, while Alex was wearing them, and pulling away after a few moments to see the lenses all fogged up. He cleared his throat and rearranged himself on the seat, trying to hide just how much the glasses turned him on.

"They suit you," he said instead of walking Alex through his little fantasy. 

"You think? Nora says they make me look like a dork."

"Well, you are a dork, so I don't think it's the glasses."

Alex shrugged and glanced down at the menu. "I'm getting the barbecue burger, fries, and an Oreo shake," he decided, closing the menu. "What about you? Wait, no, let me guess," he cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter. "A plain burger," he began in the worst British accent that Henry had ever heard, "chips, and a vanilla milkshake. Christ, no wonder Americans are obese."

Henry rolled his eyes. "A plain burger," he repeated, "chips––"

"Ah, so I was right!"

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. "And a strawberry shake. And, yes. Christ, no wonder Americans are so obese."

Alex huffed. "Well, a strawberry shake. Are you sure you can handle that much flavor? It might send your system into shock."

"I've put worse things in my body," Henry said before he could stop himself.

Alex waggled his eyebrows at him. "Oh, have you? Such as? I'd love some examples."

"Such as things that are none of your business," Henry laughed.

Alex laughed with him and, for a moment, it didn't matter that Henry was falling hopelessly in love with him because they were just two friends giggling like children in a red vinyl booth.


	5. Five

"Guys," Alex yelled, throwing the door of Henry and Pez's apartment wide open. He was a bit out of breath from literally sprinting over from his dorm, so he had to take a moment to catch his breath. Henry, who was sprawled out on the soda with a book in his hand, looked back at Alex with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his face. Pez, who was making a cup of tea, grinned at Alex, clearly excited to hear what Alex had to say.

"I got us invites to a kick-ass Halloween party this weekend," Alex grinned. Pez squealed in delight while Henry groaned. Alex smiled back at Pez then frowned at Henry. "It'll be fun, H."

"I hate dressing up," Henry complained.

Alex rolled his eyes and walked over to the sofa, taking a seat by Henry's head, right on the armrest. "Says the guy wearing a fucking Burberry button-down to read a book."

"I meant in costume," Henry argued. 

"But I've already figured out a bitchin' group costume for the three of us," Alex pouted. At the mention of a group costume, Pez came over to the sofa for details. 

"I'm in," Pez grinned. "What's the costume idea?"

"Star Wars," Alex replied. Pez whooped. "I'm Han, obviously."

"I'll be your Chewbacca!" Pez said, nearly jumping up and down with unfiltered excitement. He turned to Henry, his dark eyes gleaming. "Hen, you can be Leia."

Henry turned bright red and slammed his book down. "Pez," he growled. 

Alex laughed. "Come on, H," he pleaded, "be my Leia."

"Certainly not," Henry said. "I'll be Luke, though, if I'm getting dragged to this party no matter what I say or do."

Alex and Pez cheered and shook Henry's shoulders as they roared with laughter. Henry pretended to be all bent out of shape about it, but Alex could see that unfiltered happiness in his blue eyes. 

Four days later, Alex brought his costume over to Henry and Pez's apartment. They had made a plan to get ready together and hang out for a bit before the party. As soon as Alex stepped into the space, he was affronted by the sound of the Star Wars soundtrack playing practically full volume. Pez poured drinks while Henry pulled a needle and thread through Pez's Chewbacca costume. 

"Hey, Alex!" Pez beamed from behind the counter, holding a ladle. "Want some rum rebel punch? I found the recipe on Pintrest."

Alex shot him a thumb's up and a smile. "Yeah, sounds good." Alex walked over to Henry and saw that he was sewing a strip of rainbow fabric over the ammo belt. "A rainbow?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "Pez insisted, I'm afraid. Claimed Chewbacca wasn't 'colorful' enough."

"And that he's out and proud!" Pez added, coming over with the drinks and some chips. He set them down on the kitchen table and threw his arm over Alex's shoulder, staring down at Henry's handiwork. Seeing Henry sew so well set something off in Alex, but he wasn't really sure what it was or what to do with it. He tried to change the subject instead.

"You know," he said, pointing at Pez, "not everyone is gay."

Pez rolled his eyes and collapsed on the sofa like he was exhausted from making the rum rebel punch. He threw an arm over his head dramatically and Alex couldn't help but laugh at the sight of it. "Everyone is, statistically, at least a little bit gay."

Alex folded his arms across his chest. "You realize that you're saying that in front of two straight guys, right?" 

Pez opened his mouth, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but Henry interrupted him by throwing the Chewbacca costume at him. "All done," Henry said. He stood and got himself a cup of punch. 

Pez held the costume up triumphantly. "Looks great, Hen."

"Where'd you learn how to sew?" Alex asked, getting himself a cup, too.

"My sister," he shrugged. "Should we get into costume?"

After they were properly tipsy and had taken probably too many pictures, they made their way over to the party arm in arm in arm. As soon as they arrived, Alex made a beeline for the drinks table to get himself another drink, leaving Henry and Pez to their own devices.

"Hey, you're Alex, right?" someone said. He turned and saw a girl standing behind him. She was red-headed and British and dressed in a sexy Sherlock Holmes costume. 

"Uh, yeah?"

"I'm Helen," she smiled at him, twirling her hair around her finger. "You're in my maths class, aren't you?"

"Oh, calc? Yeah, I think so."

She smiled at him. She was, objectively, very attractive. Her cleavage was plentiful and Alex wasn't mad about it, but he really didn't want to talk to her right now. Instead, he was preoccupied with looking for signs of Henry and Pez around him.

"I love your costume," she said. "Han's always been my favorite character. He's so sexy."

Alex took a sip of his drink, trying to figure out a nice way to get out of this conversation. "Yeah, he's, uh, cool."

She put her hand on his blaster on his hip. She looked up at him through her thick eyelashes as she fiddled with the trigger.

Alex cleared his throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable. "I have to use, the, er, bathroom," he stuttered, ducking past her. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked away but he didn't really care. He wanted to find Henry and Pez so he could tell them about her and so they could dance together like they'd planned to do. This wasn't the kind of party where he wanted to find a hookup––he just wanted to be with his friends. He was becoming too aware of the clock that quickly counted down the time he had left here and he wanted to make the most of it. He had no idea if he and Henry and Pez would still be friends after he went back to America, so he wanted to spend as much time with them as possible while he was still in London.

He walked aimlessly around the party and looked for his friends but he couldn't find them for a while. He finished his drink before he managed to find Pez who was grinning at something that Alex couldn't see. He tapped Pez on the shoulder and stood by his side. 

"Hey, Pez," he said. 

Pez turned and looked at him, his eyes wide. "Oh, Alex," he said with a lack of enthusiasm that threw Alex off. "Let's get another drink, yeah?"

He started to pull Alex's arm but he stood his ground, curious why he was acting so weird. "Why are you being so weird? What were you looking at?"

Pez started to open his mouth but Alex turned to see whatever held Pez's attention before he came over. 

It was two guys making out. One of them, the one closest to him, was dressed like Harry Potter in Hogwarts robes, but Alex couldn't see the other person. He craned his neck and saw familiar white robes with a lightsaber attached to the belt. Henry.

He turned to Pez, totally dumbfounded. "Wh––What? Like, seriously: what the flying fuck?"

Pez bit his lip. "Alex––"

"No. Is he fucking serious? Is he...he's gay and he didn't feel like he could tell me?"

"I think––"

Alex shook his head. "You came out to me that first night we hung out! He's had every chance to tell me himself. Why didn't he tell me?" He was practically shaking with rage. He wasn't mad that Henry was gay––of course not––but he was disappointed that Henry didn't tell him. They talked about everything from stupid stuff to really, deep personal shit and Alex felt like he was missing a huge part of it all without knowing this information. How many times had he asked Henry about girls? How many times had he said something stupid that could have possibly offended Henry? He felt like a proper idiot. 

"I need some air," Alex decided. 

"Alex, it's not like he hid it or anything," Pez argued. "He never lied or––"

"Just...whatever. I want to go home."

"He'll ask about you!" Pez said. "What am I supposed to tell him? That you saw him making out with someone and couldn't handle it?"

"No. Just...tell him I wasn't feeling well. He won't care, anyway. Obviously we're not as close as I thought."

With that, Alex turned on his heel and left the party. Even when he got home, he was still really upset about it. It was something hot in his stomach and throat like bile. It burned him up from the inside and made his fists clench by his sides. He knew that there was something deeper going on, something he couldn't quite place, but he tried not to focus on it. He could talk to Nora about it later if he wanted to, but for now he let himself collapse on his tiny bed, still in costume, and think about Henry and how it felt to see him kissing that guy in the stupid Harry Potter costume.


	6. Six

When he finally pulled away from George, Henry smiled at him and brought their foreheads together for a moment before explaining that he needed to go check in with his friends. George nodded and put his number in Henry's phone in case they got separated. Still smiling, Henry went off to find Alex and Pez to see if they were having fun and to check in with them. He found Pez easily enough thanks the the bright rainbow across his chest, but he couldn't find Alex anywhere. 

"Henry, darling! I saw you making out with that tasty Harry Potter snack over there. How was he?"

Henry blushed and looked down at his foot. "Great. Good. I––where's Alex?"

Pez's grin fell. "He, uh, left. A few minutes ago."

His heart sank at the words and the implications. Maybe something here made Alex sad and he felt himself close up into himself as he did sometimes, or maybe he was drunk and now wandering the streets of London by his lonesome

Henry frowned at him and folded his arms across his chest. "Oh? Did he say why?"

Pez shrugged but Henry could tell that he knew something more about it. He wanted to shake Pez by the shoulders and demand that he tell him everything he knew about why Alex had left, but he didn't. The whole point of talking to and kissing George was to get Alex out of his head. Even though they were friends, it wasn't Henry's job to go after Alex if he wanted to leave. Alex wasn't his boyfriend, no matter how much Henry wished he was, and he had to make peace with that. Plus, George was very attractive, nice, and a good kisser so it wasn't like Henry didn't have anywhere else for his mind to wander. Was it so wrong for him to sort of use George like this? As a distraction? A deterrent? Alex didn't even know that Henry was gay, though it wasn't like he tried to hide it, so what did it matter? Alex was straight and certainly not interested in him and Henry was allowed to kiss boys for the thrill of it.

Right. 

So why did he have this indescribable ache in his chest? Why did his heart clench when Alex in his stupid Han Solo costume popped into his head? How many kisses, how many other men, would it take for Henry to get over Alex? Alex who was never his to begin with? He'd seen him chatting with that busty Sherlock earlier. Seen the way she rested her hand on his blaster. That had been enough for him to decide, once and for all, that he needed to start the long and tedious process of getting Alex out of his fucking head and heart. And George was nice enough. Extremely attractive, too. But he wasn't Alex. And Henry wanted more than anything to stop wishing that George was someone else. It wouldn't do him any good to hold onto this fantasy.

He texted George when he got home to ask if he'd like to get dinner on Monday. George replied almost instantly and said that he would love to. They decided to meet at a small, casual place near campus at seven. Then Henry spent the rest of his weekend doing homework and trying to see if Alex wanted to hang out or talk about what happened at the party, but Alex never replied with anything meaningful. Well, that was fine. They would see each other on Monday in literature and go for a tea (or a coffee, in Alex's case) afterwards.

When Henry sat down in literature on Monday morning, he put his bag up on the desk next to him to reserve it for Alex. But Alex didn't sit next to him. He showed up a two minutes late looking haggard and miserable and sat in the back row without so much of a glance Henry's way. Whatever had gotten to him at the party must have still been hurting him. Maybe Nora had done something or maybe he got in a fight with one of his friends from home. Henry tried not to worry about it, though, knowing that Alex would tell him about it over a hot drink and a pastry after class. 

Henry made his way over to Alex as soon as the professor dismissed them. He gripped the strap of his messenger bag and watched as Alex haphazardly threw his notebook and pencil case into his backpack. 

"Hey, why didn't you sit next to me?" Henry asked.

Alex looked up, clearly unaware that Henry had been standing there for a few seconds now. "I came in late," he shrugged. 

Henry furrowed his brow. "Are you okay?"

Alex zipped his bag. "Yeah. Great."

"Okay..." Henry trailed off, not believing him. Something was obviously very wrong and Henry intended to figure out what it was. "Coffee?"

Alex shook his head, his curls bouncing around his head with the abrupt movement, and swung his backpack over his left shoulder. "Busy."

Henry frowned at him. "Alex, what's wrong?"

Alex growled and started to leave, but Henry was at his heels. "Stop fucking following me," Alex snapped, turning to face him.

Henry stepped back in surprise and folded his arms across his chest, jutting his chin out. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. You've been avoiding me all weekend!" 

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm not doing this right now. I have class."

Henry knew that was a lie since he and Alex almost always got a drink and a snack after literature. "Just tell––"

"I'll see you later," Alex huffed. He stomped off and out of the building and Henry made no move to follow him. He narrowed his eyes and watched as Alex walked off, feeling something sour in his stomach all the while. Clearly, Henry had done something to piss him off. That wouldn't normally have been a problem because Henry would have apologized for it, but the issue was that he had no idea what he would be apologizing for. 

As he walked to the café by himself, he ran through everything that had happened. When Alex had come over to get ready for the party, he had a good time. He was smiling and fun and a bit tipsy but it was all nice and easy. They took a ridiculous amount of silly pictures in their costumes and then they went to the party. Alex went to get a drink and ended up flirting with that slutty Sherlock girl with the red hair and Henry made out with George. By the time he pulled his face far enough away, Alex was gone. Pez had insisted that he was just tired, which he admitted to with a great deal of prodding the next day, but Henry knew that something had happened. In the amount of time between Alex flirting with that girl and Henry kissing George, he'd somehow managed to do something to tick Alex off. 

Pez knew, though. Pez was the key to unlocking this whole mystery. Henry turned around and started walking back towards his flat to see if Pez would tell him what had happened. Technically, he and Pez were better and older friends than Pez and Alex, so Pez should side with Henry and tell him. Well, at least, he hoped that Pez would side with him. If Pez didn't open up about it, Henry would be back to square one. 

"Pez!" Henry yelled, storming into their flat in a fury of desperation and determination.

Pez paused the telly and looked over at him. "Henry? Shouldn't you be––"

"What happened at that party?" he demanded, planting himself right in front of Pez so he had no choice but to acknowledge this. 

Pez bit his lip nervously. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. Alex is cross with me and I don't know why, so I need you to tell me what happened. Why did he actually go home, Pez? What set him off?"

"I feel like this is a conversation you need to have with Alex," Pez argued. 

"I agree, but Alex won't even really speak to me right now, so I need you to help me. Please, Pez. I––I can't lose him knowing that there was something I could have done to fix it."

Over these past few weeks, Alex had become Henry's best friend. His confidant. He told Alex everything––he told him about his family, his dad, his passions, his dreams. Alex knew the ins and outs of him so well by now that he was probably the world's leading expert. And he knew a lot about Alex, too. He knew about how he had briefly dated Nora but how it wasn't weird now, he knew about Alex's parents, and he knew that Alex was terribly homesick but that being with him and Pez was quite helpful to remedy it. So, if there was something wrong, Henry would fix it. He had come too far with Alex to lose him to something small and easily fixable. 

"I––you can't tell him I told you," Pez warned, pointing a finger at him. "And I'm only telling you because I know that you'll drive both yourself and me absolutely mad if you continue to obsess about it."

Henry nodded quickly, easily accepting these terms.

Pez sighed. "Hen, he saw you, okay?"

Henry blinked at him. "Saw me? Saw me what?"

"He saw you and George."

Henry doesn't quite understand. Was Alex jealous of George? Jealous of Henry? Homophobic? No, certainly not homophobic. Pez had come out to him the first night they met and Alex had no problem with it. 

"Why did that make him mad at me?"

"I don't know, darling. I think he's upset you never told him you're gay. I mean, that's what he said, anyway, but...I don't know. I think there's more to it than that. Some kind of jealousy?"

"It's not like I've been hiding it! He––my favorite author is Jane Austen. I wear Burberry on a daily basis! I've sent him snapchats of me in bloody face masks!"

"I know, but he is, as you put it once, 'remarkably thick.'"

Henry huffed and shoved his hands into his pockets, letting Pez's words sink in. "Wait. You said jealousy. Is Alex––"

"You know my gaydar is impeccable," Pez reminded him, "and should probably be patented or trademarked at the very least."

"Right." Henry was getting anxious now.

"So, knowing what I know of Alex, I would say that I don't think he's one hundred percent straight. I don't know if I'm right, and I don't think he's aware that he might be into guys. I also don't know if any of that means that he's interested in you, but that's my opinion. Or, if he is straight, it's a weird friend jealousy-anxiety thing where he's terrified of losing you to some other guy."

Henry sat down and let himself process this for a moment. There was something in his chest––a flicker of it. Hope, perhaps? If Pez was right about Alex not being one hundred percent straight, and Pez was rarely wrong, Henry had a chance. A small one, yes, but a chance nonetheless. And, God, Alex was all he had wanted since he first laid eyes on him. His smile was permanently etched into Henry's brain from the first moment he stepped foot into that literature class. 

"I need to go talk to him," Henry said. "I need to call him. I–-can I use your mobile? He won't pick up if he knows it's me."

Pez smiled and handed Henry his mobile. "I'm rooting for you, Hen. You've got this. Then, when you're done, I'll get the ice cream and we can watch Great British Bake-Off until we go blind. Henry flashed him a smile and wandered into his bedroom to make the call. 

Alex picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Pez, what's up?"

"I'm gay!" Well, Henry hadn't really intended to say it like that, but he supposed it got the message across all the same.

"H––Henry?"

"Yes, it's Henry and I'm gay."

Silence. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before––I honestly thought you knew. I mean, it's quite obvious. But anyway, I'm telling you now. I'm gay. One hundred percent. Have been since the day I was born."

"Fuck, Pez told you, didn't he?"

Henry twirled his family ring on his finger nervously. "Er..."

Alex groaned.

"If I thought you didn't know, I would have told you," Henry offered. "It's not something I hide anymore. Not here at university, anyway. I tell you everything, as you know. You probably know more about me than Pez does at this point."

Alex sighed. "I just...it felt like this huge thing," he admitted. "Like this huge part of you that I just didn't know. And I thought, maybe, that you didn't want me to know. And to find out like that..."

"I know," Henry said. "And I'm truly sorry for that."

"Now I feel like an idiot. I mean, Jane Austen is your favorite author."

Henry chuckled, feeling all of the tension leave his body. "Indeed. Honestly, the sheer magnitude of your obliviousness never ceases to amaze me." He took a breath. "So are we..."

"Yeah, yeah," Alex said. "We're still friends. Best friends. That wasn't in question. I just...I'm glad we got this straightened out." He laughed. "Or, gayed out, I guess?"

Henry groaned but there was no real annoyance in his voice. How could there be? "You lovely American idiot."

He could practically hear Alex smiling into the phone. "I think you owe me a coffee, though," he said. "And a pastry for calling me an idiot." 

"Of course. You Americans need to keep up your caloric intake lest you fall apart."

A beat of silence. 

"H?"

"Here."

"I missed you," he said. "And I'm proud of you. You're, like, the bravest guy I know."

Henry smiled into his phone like an idiot. "I missed you, too. Goodbye, Alex."

"Bye, Henry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how oblivious Alex is.


	7. Seven

There was this one day that Alex clung to when things took a turn for the worst. It was the time before everything went south, before "George" became the single most frequent word out of Henry's mouth. It was a memory that Alex smiled upon even when he wanted to rip out George's throat. A memory that came to him in dreams.

It was about two weeks after he and Henry had sorted everything out. They were back to hanging out regularly both during and after class. It was before things got more serious with George. Before Henry tried to hang out with his friends and his boyfriend at the same time before settling for just hanging out with his boyfriend instead. It was a cold day and Alex and Henry decided to go ice skating. It had been ages since Alex had gone skating and he thought that Henry would be magnificent on the ice, so they had both agreed to it almost instantly. He showed up at Henry's apartment at ten in the morning with an Early Grey tea for Henry in one hand and his own, shitty coffee in the other. 

Henry beamed at him when he opened the door. "Right on time," he said, eyeing the to-go cups in Alex's hands.

Alex handed the tea one to Henry who took it gratefully. "And with your gross tea," he added, gesturing to the cup.

Henry hummed in agreement and took a sip of it. "Mm, did you put a splash of milk in this?"

"What can I say? I memorized your stupid tea order."

He wondered, vacantly, if it was weird that he had memorized the tea order. Or that he knew how much Henry adored Jaffa Cakes and The Great British Bake-Off. How Henry liked to keep his socks on in his own apartment. Upon recalling Jaffa Cakes, Alex slipped his hand into his pocket and produced a package of them. He'd found them at the same place where he'd gotten their drinks––a small café he'd discovered on the walk over. He handed them to Henry who grinned at him again. 

"Interesting breakfast choice," he remarked, turning the package over in his hands.

Alex rolled his eyes. "I know you constantly have to replenish your supply. And, with finals coming up in less than a month, I thought I'd help you get started."

Henry's face fell. "Oh," he frowned, "finals. Right."

Alex knew what that meant. Finals, which were fast approaching, meant going home. It meant leaving Henry and Pez and the magic of their strange friendship and returning to Georgetown to finish his degree. Even though he was looking forward to going home and seeing his family and his friends (if he still had any), he was nervous about leaving London. Henry and Pez were the best friends he'd ever had and he couldn't help but get this sinking feeling in his stomach whenever he thought about leaving them. It would be different when he went home. They would carry on with their lives in London and Alex would go back to living in DC. They would always be five hours ahead of him and the talking would get harder and harder until there were just four thousands miles of silence between them. 

"Come on," Alex said, trying to return that light vibe to the conversation. He really hadn't meant to make them both sad with thoughts of the uncertain future. "We've got some ice skating to do."

Henry nodded and handed Alex his tea so he could slip on his pretty, grey peacoat. He took his drink back and followed Alex down to the lobby and outside. 

"These drinks were a lovely idea," Henry said after they had walked for about a block. "It's freezing."

"Its always freezing here. You should come to DC in the summer. Get a dose of sunshine and humidity."

Henry chuckled. "Would you really want me to visit you?"

Alex frowned at him. "What? Of course I want you to visit me! I'm gonna miss you like crazy, H. Plus, I wanna show you all of the American museums that'll make your British sense of superiority crumble to the ground." He looked over at his friend who hung his head, clearly thinking too hard about something. Alex nudged him with his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Henry said too quickly. He sighed. "I just can't tell if hearing you talk about this is making me happy or sad."

"Why? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I've absolutely adored having you here," Henry started, "and being your friend. And I'm terrified of what might happen when you go back to America."

Alex reached for Henry's free hand and gave it a squeeze. He'd never done this before––held Henry's hand. He'd wanted to, sometimes, but he always thought it might make things weird or uncomfortable between them. He'd never even done that with Liam and they had random hookups in the equation. It felt like crossing some kind of boundary. A hard, invisible line. But, well, fuck it. Henry was obviously working himself into an anxious knot over there and Alex was desperate to provide him with some kind of relief. 

"Hey, H," he said, giving his hand another squeeze. Henry still wouldn't look at him. He moved his other hand to Henry's jaw, pushing it up to meet Alex's eyes. "I'm scared, too," he admitted. "I'm fucking terrified. But I also know that you are the greatest, bravest, and smartest person I've ever met and I will fight tooth and nail to keep you in my life as long as I possibly can, okay? You're the most amazing friend I could have asked for."

Henry, who had been pretty pliant under Alex's touch and gaze, sighed and moved away from him and started walking again. Whatever delicate balance they had achieved in that moment was gone and Alex desperately missed the feeling of Henry's skin under his own as soon as he pulled away. 

"I'll fight, too," Henry promised. "With every part of me. But first, I believe I have to prove that I'm the better skater."

It was that day. That moment followed by an afternoon of skating and delicious hot cocoa. Alex had beaten that memory to a bloody pulp in his mind. He thought of all of the things he could have said or done to change what happened after that. After Their Last Good Day. Because, after he dropped Henry off at his apartment that evening, there was some shift between them. Henry didn't text him back as promptly. He hardly texted Alex at all. He wasn't cold to him or anything, just distant. So incredibly, achingly distant. When they did see each other, George was either there or Henry spent half the time talking about George or on his phone texting George. 

It was driving Alex fucking insane. Henry used to be his. His to get dinner with, his to joke around with, his to get drunk with. They used to be each other's person, but Alex wasn't Henry's person anymore. Now it was George with his stupid green eyes and his stupid dark hair and his stupid fucking smile that made Alex want to punch it off his face. He was all funny jokes and witty comments and Alex wanted to gag him every time he spoke. He wanted to send George and his fucking posh accent soaring out of a broken window. 

It happened when they were having coffee after literature one day––when Alex finally snapped. It had taken a lot of pleading to get Henry to go with him, but Alex thought that it would be worth it since he would get to see and talk to Henry, but he had been wrong in that assumption. Almost as soon as they sat down with their drinks, Henry started telling Alex about some movie he'd watched with George, or, more accurately, George's reaction and commentary to it. 

"I swear to God," Alex groaned, "if you say one more thing about Geoff––"

"George," Henry corrected. 

"––I'm going to punch you in the face."

Henry frowned at him and set his tea down on the table. "I don't understand. Why are you so upset?"

"Because I don't care about Greg."

"George."

"Oh my fucking God," Alex growled, throwing his head back in annoyance. "Dude, I literally give zero shits about him. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but, fuck, H! You talk about him so much that I feel like I'm hanging out with him, not you. And it sucks because you're my best friend, not him."

"Do you not like him or something?"

"No, I hate him," Alex said without hesitation. "He has no personality."

Henry looked offended, but Alex didn't really care. He had put up with this George shit day and night, so his own anger trumped Henry's. 

"I thought you two got on," Henry mumbled. 

Alex rolled his eyes. "Well, I fucking hate him. So."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," Alex said, waving his hands in the air, "I didn't want to have to make you choose between us! I hate your boyfriend and you like him and I'm sorry but I can't fake it anymore. But––"

Henry stuck his chin out and narrowed his eyes. "But that's exactly what you're doing," he argued. 

"I'm not, actually," Alex protested. It was true. What was the point of making Henry choose between him and George when Alex knew he would lose? Between the stupid, supportive boyfriend and the angry friend, the boyfriend was the clear winner. Honestly, Alex was mad at himself for not coming to terms with all of this earlier. That, despite whatever conversations they had about the future, their friendship had a very clear sell-by date. Alex had assumed that day was when he got on a plane back to America, but what did it matter when it happened if he knew it would happen anyway? 

Henry looked at him in confusion. "What does that mean?"

Alex shrugged and chugged the rest of his terrible latte. "It means that I won't make you choose between us because I know what the answer will be."

Henry's confusion melted away into sadness when Alex's words and their implications sunk in. His eyes widened and he reached out for Alex, but Alex stood up before he could close the distance. 

"Alex," he begged, tears already forming in his beautiful eyes. 

Alex shot him a soft smile and left. 

He wandered around for a while with no real destination in mind. He felt like a ghost. Empty. A shell. It started to rain but he couldn't bring himself to pull up his hood or find an awning to stand under. Heartbroken and deflated, he made his way to Nora's dorm and knocked on the door. If anyone could talk him through this, make him see things for how they really were, it was Nora.

She opened it after a moment and took in the sight of him. "Well," she said, one hand on her hip and the other one on the door, "you look like shit." 

"Gee, thanks," he huffed, pushing past her and into her room. He sat down on her bed. She followed him over and sat down next to him. 

"What happened?"

Alex sighed and rested his head against her shoulder. "I had a fight with Henry."

She threaded her fingers through his damp curls. "I'm sure it'll blow over. All couples fight."

"Yeah, but––" he pulled his head off her shoulder and stared at her. "Couples?"

She raised an eyebrow at him like he was the crazy one. "Is there some other term y'all prefer? Partners?"

"Friends? Because we're not fucking dating?"

"You know you can tell me, Alex. I came out to you, like, two years ago."

Alex had no idea what she was talking about. Did she––Oh. She must have thought that this was like what happened with Liam. That he and Henry were friends that hooked up when they were drunk and stupid and wanted to forget about the world for a little while. 

"Liam was, like, a drunk off my ass kinda thing. It's not like I'm gay or something."

"I know you're not gay," Nora replied with the roll of her eyes. "You're bi."

He kept staring at her. Why would she say that? He was straight––he had always been straight. "I'm––"

"Oh, have you not gotten there yet? Sorry, let's backtrack. You had a fight with Henry?"

"Yeah. I was mad because he's been spending all of his time with or talking about his stupid boyfriend. And it drives me insane because I miss him and––"

It dawned on him then. Well, not so much dawned. More like it slapped him hard across the face. It all made sense. That feeling in his stomach that came when he touched Henry or when Henry smiled at him. The bile that rose in his throat whenever George's name was dropped into conversation or when he had to see the two of them kiss. If this was just a friend jealousy thing, then why did Alex have a comprehensive list of everything he wanted to do to Henry in his head? 

"Oh my God," he gasped. "I––do I like Henry?"

Nora smiled at him and, honestly, Alex felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. Why had he spent so much time thinking about Henry? Stupid, little things about him like how his hair might feel in Alex's fingers or how his eyes seemed to change shades of blue with the weather? He wanted...no, he needed to find Henry. Immediately.


	8. Eight

It was midnight and Henry knew that he should have been fast asleep by now but he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Alex's face behind his lids. Alex sending him that soft smile as he left leaving Henry grasping at air and the shattered pieces of their friendship. God, even when Henry was actively trying not to mess things up, he still managed it. He'd thought...well, what did he think, exactly? That throwing George's name into nearly every conversation would help him get over Alex? That mentioning his boyfriend all of the time was some stupid game to get Alex to admit to being jealous? No, it couldn't be that. Henry might have been stupidly, helplessly, irreversibly in love with Alex, but that meant that he would never hurt him intentionally. He wouldn't push Alex into admitting something to Henry that he wasn't admitting even to himself. Well, if there was even anything for him to admit. Henry still had no idea if Alex was bi or gay or what, but Pez's voice always whispered it in the back of his mind whenever Alex sent him that patented Reserved For Henry smile. Or when he took his hand that day they went ice skating.

Henry groaned and rolled onto his side, opening his phone. He brought up his text messages with Alex and let the cursor blink at him as he tried to figure out what he could possibly say to fix all of this. There were no words strong enough in the whole of the English language to express the sheer magnitude of pain he felt when Alex walked away from him. There were no words deep enough to tell Alex how much he loved him and wanted him in his life. And though Alex said he wasn't making Henry choose between him and George, it certainly felt like it. He returned to his messages home screen and tapped on George's contact instead. If he told George what happened, would he have anything useful to say? Their relationship didn't really include Alex in passing. How could it when every word out of Henry's mouth about him was sure to give away that he was in love with Alex and not his own fucking boyfriend? It was okay when they hung out together because at least Henry could cling to George's arm to remind himself of who he was actually dating, but talking about Alex with George seemed like it would cross some kind of line. 

George was a great guy. He was ridiculously smart, incredibly attractive, and never had a negative thing to say about anyone. If Henry wanted to, he could write pages upon pages about George's eyes and personality and every other little thing about him down to his obsession with Harry Potter and why he liked or disliked each character. He could write sonnets about George, but it didn't matter. No amount of writing or thinking about him would change the fact that he was still in deep, painful love with Alex. It was the kind of love that consumed him. It was a raging fire that burned even through the wettest, coldest of nights. Flames that could withstand the test of time, it seemed. It had been months of loving Alex at first from a distance and then so close up that Henry felt like he nearly had it in his grasp. That day that they had gone ice skating, when Alex had put his hand on Henry's jaw and forced him to look at Alex...he felt a flicker of hope. That's all it was––the smallest flicker of hope. It burned through his stomach when he looked deeply into Alex's eyes. When he realized that, if he just moved his head just so, he could kiss him. 

But then Alex had said that Henry was his friend. He poured water over that flicker of hope and it quickly withered away again. That was when Henry decided to stop holding out on that hope. He started to force his brain full of George. He tried to see him whenever he could and he texted him when he couldn't. He thought, if he kept himself busy enough with George, that Alex would be pushed from his mind. That his thoughts of Alex would be written over and covered with George, instead.

There was a pounding at the door. A loud, obnoxious pounding. Henry groaned, rolled out of bed, and made his way to the door in nothing but his white tee shirt and navy blue joggers. When he opened it, he saw that it was Alex standing there. He was soaking through and panting like he'd sprinted all the way here. Henry felt his jaw clench at the sight of him in the hallway. 

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his words jagged and frustrated. "It's the middle of the bloody night!"

Alex narrowed his eyes at him and pushed his way into the flat. Henry sighed and shut the door, allowing him a moment to compose himself before turning back to Alex. He looked so tired, like his brain had been working nonstop since the café. Henry wanted to tell him that he was glad that Alex had been torturing himself over it, but he didn't. If anything, he just felt terribly confused and heartbroken. He figured that this was Alex coming here to say things he hadn't gotten around to saying at the café. That there were more insults about George or Henry's relationship on the tip of his tongue. Maybe Alex had written it all out in one of those lists he loved so much. Henry wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

"If you're here to insult me some more, I wish you wouldn't even bother. I heard you earlier loud and clear and I don't think that I need a recap of how much you loathe my boyfriend. I got it well enough the first time."

Alex blinked at him and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no words came out. 

"And, just to be clear, I don't care what you think about him. He's my boyfriend and he likes me and I like him. He's––he's good to me. He cares about me."

"Do you care about him?" Alex asked. 

Henry scoffed. "Of course I bloody care about him. That's the whole point of dating someone!"

Alex opened his mouth, but Henry cut him off. 

"And you don't get to come to me and accuse me of not caring about him. And you don't get to tell me how much you hate him and how I talk about him too much. You are, as you've said so many times, my friend. You are not my boyfriend or my sister or anyone who's opinions change how I behave or who I like. It's not my fault that you have some weird jealousy of me spending time with other people, so you don't get to yell at me and cause a scene just because you feel like you need more attention." He took in a breath. "And you certainly do not get to come to me and give me a fucking ultimatum. I'm not an object for you to win over. I'm a person with my own thoughts and feelings and if I want to be friends with you and date George at the same time, it's perfectly within my right to do so."

"I never––"

"And you don't get to pin it around me just because you can't sort yourself out. It's not my fault, okay? Any other friend would be happy that I've found someone who likes me back. Any other friend would at least try to get to know my boyfriend before ruling him out as an emotionless prick. He's not the prick here, Alex. You––"

"Shut up!" Alex shook his head and lunged at Henry, taking a fistful of his shirt in his clenched hands. He pushed Henry against the door and held him there. Henry tried to squirm away but Alex was stronger than he looked. Henry was trapped. He waited for the inevitable––for Alex to throw a punch or slap him or something. But Alex just stood there, his grip tight and probably stretching the material of his shirt, panting. His eyes were frantic but Henry couldn't make out why they were frantic. Normally, he was pretty decent at figuring out what was going on in Alex's mind based on the emotions reflected in his eyes, but he couldn't read them now. 

"Just..." Alex's breath was hot against Henry's neck. Henry's own breathing was short and panicked at the thoughts of all of the things Alex could do with him in this position. "I want...I want to try something, okay?" 

It was the weakest he'd ever heard him. He sounded small. Hurt. Terrified. 

Henry swallowed a lump in his throat. 

"Don't––don't freak out."

Henry nodded, knowing full well that he would let Alex have his way with him without a second thought. He closed his eyes and braced for impact, for the feeling of Alex's knuckles against his cheek, but it never came. 

Instead, he felt Alex's lips against his own. They were warm and solid kissing Henry like he was made of butterfly wings. Like he might break away any moment. Alex pulled away after a second and looked up at Henry, his eyes holding some kind of question that Henry couldn't understand. Instead of answering him, Henry let out a growl from somewhere deep within his throat and kissed Alex again. Alex moaned against him as Henry slipped his tongue into Alex's already parted lips. He grabbed a fistful of Alex's hair in one hand, giving it a good tug, and grabbed Alex's ass with his other hand. Alex's hands dropped from his shirt, one reaching out behind Henry's back and settling at the nape of his neck and the other tugging Henry forward by the band of his joggers. 

Henry, who never thought he would get even a moment of this, eagerly kissed Alex harder, biting his bottom lip in the process. The bite seemed to urge Alex on because he smiled against Henry's lips and started to grind into Henry, earning a moan from him in response. Hips still moving torturously against Henry's, Alex started to kiss Henry's neck, nipping at the skin there. Henry gasped in surprise but quickly melted into it, taking over with the hip movements while Alex had his way with the sensitive skin on Henry's neck. 

Alex. It was all Henry could think. It played in his mind on a seemingly endless loop. The feeling of Alex's lips on his skin, of his hands on Henry's waist and back of his neck. Each new movement send a surge of electricity jolting through Henry's body. He was sure to short-circuit soon, but Alex felt so delightful against him. He rutted against Alex harder, hoping to show him just how badly he wanted this. How badly he had always wanted this. How seeing Alex flirt with that girl at the Halloween party had nearly driven Henry insane. How it had forced him to occupy his mind with thoughts of––

"George," Henry gasped. 

"I'm Alex," Alex said, not pulling away from Henry's neck. Henry shook his head and, using all the strength he could muster, pushed Alex away from him. Alex landed on his ass on the floor and looked up at Henry wish flushed cheeks and pink lips.

"George," he said again, running a hand through his hair. Oh, Christ, he'd forgotten about George. His boyfriend. He just cheated on his bloody boyfriend with Alex. 

"Hen––"

"You need to go," Henry said, trying his hardest to hide the emotion trembling beneath his words. 

"Henry, I'm––"

"Leave!" Henry cried, throwing the door open. "Leave right this fucking second! You don't get to come in here and kiss me––"

"You kissed me back!" Alex protested, still on the floor. "Eagerly, I might add!"

Henry shook his head. He could feel the tears coming put he pushed them down. He didn't deserve to feel upset about making Alex leave. He was pissed at Alex for coming in here and kissing him. He was so angry that it had taken this long for Alex to figure his feelings out. If this had happened a few weeks ago, before he started dating George, he would have relished in it. But now he felt like a bounder. A cheater. He was a cheater. He had cheated on his boyfriend, someone who cared for him very deeply and for whom he cared for, with his stupid crush. With his friend. With Alex. Alex who was going home soon. Alex who had come into this country and fucked Henry in more ways than he cared to count. 

"I have a boyfriend," Henry growled, "and you are not my boyfriend. You––" he took a deep breath. "You are a mistake."

Alex's eyes flashed for a second before he stood up and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry I didn't figure this out sooner," Alex said in a hoarse whisper. 

Henry refused to look him in the eye. "I'm just sorry that you thought you could kiss me. We're done. Don't––Don't speak to me. Don't sit next to me in class. Don't even look at me ever again, understand?"

Alex nodded and left. Henry slammed the door behind him and sunk to the floor. Once Alex was gone, he let himself cry about it. He let himself feel the terrible, gut-wrenching feeling of heartbreak tear through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward...please no one hate me! This has a happy ending, I promise!


	9. Nine

There was a certain freedom in not giving a single fuck anymore. Maybe Alex was kidding himself for thinking of this as freedom, this newfound ability to stumble and bumble his way unapologetically through life, but it was certainly better than allowing himself to dwell on how shitty it felt without Henry in his life. Alex was torn between regretting kissing Henry and being happy that he did. If he hadn't kissed Henry that fateful night, they could still be friends, but then Alex would have this terrible ache and want in his chest––the kind that would have consumed him until he closed the distance between them. So, no. Alex couldn't regret that kiss because, without it, the ghost of Henry's lips on his own wouldn't come to him in dreams. The memory of Henry's touch––his maddening, hungry touch––became his only solace. It follows him through his day and climbed into his mind at night to bring him a peaceful sleep.

Despite his internal objections, Alex obeyed Henry's wishes. For the most part, anyway. He didn't talk or sit next to Henry. The only thing he allowed himself to do was to look at him––mostly at the back of his head–-because, well, how could he refrain? Plus, it certainly couldn't have mattered if he stole a glance every now and then again because Henry seemed none the wiser about it. 

He did, however, try to maintain his friendship with Pez which, as he could have predicted, promptly exploded when he called him for the first time after that night. 

"I'm sorry, darling," Pez had sighed when Alex had called him up to see if he wanted to hang out. "I love you but I am, first and foremost, Henry's best friend. And, well, kissing him while he has a boyfriend was simply the worst idea you've ever had."

"If...if he ever asks about me, can you tell him that I'm not sorry? Oh, and that I'm, like, ninety-nine percent sure that I'm in love with him?"

That had been quite the realization––that he was in love with Henry. He supposed, upon reflection, that it was pretty obvious. Their friendship had been forged in fire. Alex had fallen into it quickly with his entire being and, even if he hadn't known it, he had been falling in love with Henry the whole time. When he tried to think about a moment to pinpoint as the one where he, somewhere deep inn his mid, realized he was in love with Henry, his mind wandered back to the day they went ice skating. 

Finals came and went without much of a hassle. Now completely devoid of a social life again, Alex poured all of his energy into studying for them. After finals, it was time for Alex to pack up his things and return to Georgetown. His family was in Austin, but he wanted some time to unpack and move back into his small, one-bedroom apartment before going home for the holiday festivities. He half expected Henry to come knock on his door on his final day, or maybe to pop up at the airport. A text, at the very least. But nothing. Just the silence and his now barren room and the pit in his stomach that had made a home after Henry told him to leave. He tried to ignore that pit by immersing himself with studying for finals, but there was nothing left to distract him, anymore. Henry was, truly, out of his life for good. Whatever had happened between them would stay here in London, in the walls of Henry's apartment, in the classroom, or on the ice skating rink. It would stay in London with Henry while Alex made the nearly four-thousand mile trek home. 

When he arrived back in D.C., he unpacked all of his crap and tried to remember where he had it all put away before London. He wandered around the city, going to all of the places he had promised to show Henry one day. The future they had talked about...it was a future that didn't exist anymore. Maybe, in another universe, they worked out and were happy together. Maybe Alex had gotten his shit together sooner and kissed Henry that day at the rink, or maybe Henry had kissed him, first. But, no matter what might have been happening in those other times, places, or universes, in this one, the one Alex was fated to, Henry was nothing but a memory that he had beaten into a pulp. 

Two days before Christmas Eve, Alex was packing up once again to go back to Austin to be with his family for Christmas. He let Bridget Jones' Diary play on his television while he sipped shitty, store-bought eggnog and packed his stuff up into a small suitcase. He told himself that the movie was just convenient and Christmasy, but he knew that it was one of Henry's favorites. Henry, the hopeless romantic who probably sighed in relief when Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy kissed dramatically in the snowy street. Alex growled to himself and thought about turning it off, but decided against it. It was almost Christmas and he was sad and alone and still terribly, terribly heartbroken. If he wanted to watch this stupid, cheesy, romantic movie and think about Henry, he was going to let himself. He gave in, actually. Completely. He stopped busying himself with packing and sat down on his couch and invested his whole mind in watching this British movie. Mark Darcy...well, he seemed just like Henry, in a way. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that Colin Firth's posh accent didn't belong to the dark-haired actor at all but, instead, Henry. 

There was a knock on a door somewhere, probably on the screen, but Alex had his eyes closed so he could better visualize that Mark Darcy was Henry. The knock came again, though, so Alex opened his eyes and found that it was not, in fact, from the movie. His door. Someone was knocking on his door. He groaned and got up, leaving his eggnog on the coffee table. He walked towards the door and rubbed his eyes sleepily when the knock came again. 

"I'm coming, okay? Jesus," he said, throwing it open. 

In the hallway of his apartment building stood a snow-covered Henry with his messenger bag slung across his shoulder and a suitcase in tow. Alex blinked at him, sure that this was some tipsy-induced hallucination. He rubbed his eyes again but Henry was still there. Cold, wet, and looking as gorgeous as ever. There were bags under his eyes and his cheeks and nose were brushed with pink from the cold.

"Henry?" It was a stupid question. Obviously, it was Henry. But Alex couldn't find a single reason for why Henry was standing outside his door at nine at night weeks after refusing to speak to him. 

"Can I come in?" Henry asked in that familiar, spine-shivering accent. 

Alex nodded, still rendered mute by the surprise and shock of it all, and stepped aside. He gestured at Henry to enter. Henry smiled at him in appreciation and entered Alex's apartment with his suitcase rolling behind him. Alex shut the door and and turned back to face Henry who had already noticed Bridget Jones' Diary playing. 

"Are you really watching Bridget Jones' Diary?" he asked with a grin, gesturing towards the tv. 

Alex blinked at him again and nodded. "Yeah," he managed. He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Henry turned back to face him and shrugged. "I thought we could have a talk."

"A phone call, hell, even a text message would have sufficed," Alex huffed, folding his arms against his chest. As glad as he was to see Henry, he was also terrified of why he was here. Was this so Henry could yell at him in person? Punch him? Tell him off and see the look on Alex's face? 

"Yes, well, I thought this sort of thing might be better done in person." 

Alex sighed and moved back onto the couch, gesturing for Henry to sit in the armchair opposite him. Henry did. Alex couldn't read a single emotion on Henry's face. It was unnerving, to be honest, but, then again, this entire situation was unnerving. Weeks of radio-silence, of quiet hatred, and now Henry shows up out of the fucking blue with luggage? Alex wanted to know what was going on. Wanted to know if this was a final goodbye or some kind of weird, overly dramatic apology. 

"I'm assuming you didn't come here just to stare at me," Alex snapped. He couldn't help but snap at him. This was the guy who had broken his heart. Who had called him a mistake. 

Henry's face shifted into a frown for a moment before he put that unreadable mask back on and readjusted his sitting position. "Right. I wanted to tell you, well, I needed to tell you," he started. He took a deep breath. "Alex, you completely fucked up my entire life when you kissed me." 

Ah, so this was Henry's final twist of the knife. Alex glared at him. "You really didn't need to fly over here to tell me that," he growled. "I kinda got the message when you told me that I was a mistake." The word was poison on his tongue. 

Henry frowned again. "I did say that, didn't I?"

Alex wanted to jump out his window. Or, maybe, slam a head into a wall. He couldn't decide who's head deserved to go through it, though. Henry's for coming here? His own for believing that this conversation would do nothing other than add insult to injury?

"Yup."

Henry stared at him a moment. "Well, you have to understand that I was quite upset. I had a boyfriend––"

"Had?"

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. "Can I finish? Please? I've...I've planned this whole thing out, you see."

Alex leaned back on the couch and gestured for Henry to continue. 

Henry shot him a curt nod. "Where was I? Oh, right. I had a boyfriend whom I was starting to develop strong feelings for. But then you came in with your curls and your eyes and you...you kissed me. You kissed me like I was vital. Like you might die if you had to go another second without feeling my lips on your own. And, Christ, Alex, I kissed you back. How could I not kiss you back when it was all I had wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on you?"

Alex felt his breath hitch in his throat. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't Henry coming to hit him where it hurt. Maybe this was Henry's strange, roundabout way of telling him that he loved him, too. He remained silent, careful not to upset the delicate balance that had fallen over them. 

"But I had a boyfriend. I may be many things, but I am not a cheater. So I...I told you to go. I said the cruelest things to you because I needed you to leave so I could sort out my feelings. I thought it might have been better for both of us if I stayed with George because you were returning to the States so soon. As the weeks went on, though, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I already hadn't been able to stop thinking about you, so it was really quite something. I ended up talking to Pez about it and, well, he told me what you said."

Alex froze. His heart beat rapidly in his chest. Henry's admission of attraction was not nearly the same thing as Alex's admission of love. He couldn't help but fear that he had scared Henry away with what he told Pez. What he had stupidly, brazenly told Pez when his heart was still freshly broken. 

"Ninety nine percent?" Henry asked with a smirk and the raise of an eyebrow.

Alex felt himself turn red. "That was weeks ago," he whispered. He wasn't even sure if Henry could hear him, now. His voice might have been too quiet. Too afraid. He wasn't used to this sort of thing. Feelings. Everything was always hooking up and never speaking again. He had the rules down pat for one night stands, but there was no list he could make of things to do when mutual feelings were involved. Were they even mutual? 

"And now?" Henry asked, suddenly standing in front of him. Alex took in a shaky breath and stood, too. They were so close to each other. Alex could feel Henry's breath––could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. He could smell his cologne and, under that, something so distinctly Henry. Clean linens and fresh grass, his brain supplied. 

Alex took a breath and looked up at him, right into those eyes that had pierced his very soul despite everything. Those eyes that could make him forget his own name if he looked at them long enough. "A thousand percent," he whispered. 

Henry grinned at him. "A thousand percent."

Henry leaned down and kissed him then. It wasn't soft like that first one Alex had placed so tenderly on his lips. It was all moving lips, desperate tongues, and clanking teeth. It was the kind of kiss that seemed convey "I'm sorry," "I love you," and "I missed you" all in one, clumsy movement. And Alex was living for it. He pulled Henry closer until there was no more space between them––they way it always should have been. He made quick work of Henry's shirt and jacket, throwing them triumphantly on the floor. He pulled away and looked at the vast, muscled expanse of Henry's chest, a grin spreading across his face while he ran his fingers over the hard lines. 

"Wait a minute," Alex panted, smiling up at Henry. "Nice boys don't kiss like that."

Henry's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before he realized what Alex was doing. "Oh, yes they fucking do."

He pulled Alex in for another kiss and started to help Alex remove his own shirt. Soon, all of their clothing joined the pile on the floor and, as Henry's mouth worked between Alex's thighs, he couldn't help but smile up at the ceiling. 

Even with all of the pain and lonely nights that came with everything, he knew that he wouldn't have it any other way. Because this was exactly how it was supposed to be: the posh boy and his star-crossed, late on the pickup, fumbling lover. The Mark Darcy to his Bridget Jones. His gravity. His everything. 

Henry, with his face flushed from arousal and happiness. 

Henry who loved him back. 

His Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to make this into two chapters but I thought it was better as one. There will still be a tenth chapter, though, so don't you worry!


	10. Ten

Henry woke up feeling warm and sated and confused. He could vaguely recall the previous night, but his brain was foggy from the jet lag. Blinking his eyes open, he saw a dark, muscular arm wrapped tightly around his waist and a nest of dark curls resting on his chest. He grinned to himself at the sight of it, remembering that Alex had told him he loved him last night. He told him over and over again in desperate moans against his mouth or deep growls while Henry had his lips around Alex's delightfully gorgeous and eager cock. Henry had told him that back, too, so many times that he lost count. He felt his cheeks flush at the memory of it all. It was something out of a storybook––the happy ending they both deserved. After all of those weeks of awkwardness and guilt with George, he had finally had the nerve to make up his mind and try to get Alex back. Well, he supposed he'd never really had Alex to begin with, but no matter. None of fantasies and daydreams about their reunion filled him with as much happiness and bliss as the real thing. And, now, the morning after. 

"Morning, sweetheart," Alex mumbled, his lips brushing against Henry's exposed flesh. 

Henry bent his head and placed a kiss onto Alex's dark curls, humming in glee. That word, sweetheart, was doing funny things to his insides. "Morning, love."

Alex rearranged himself so he was at eye-level with Henry, making sure to keep his arms around him all the while. "Was last night real?"

Henry smiled softly at him and moved a stray curl behind Alex's ear. "Afraid so."

Alex rolled his eyes and nudged him with his shoulder. It felt just as easy as things had before all of the drama and the silent fighting. "You're still an asshole," Alex told him.

"I distinctly recall you moaning my name on multiple occasions last night," Henry chided.

Alex's face flushed red with embarrassment. "An asshole with nice lips," he conceded. "And a magical tongue." 

Henry, unsure of what to say, snuggled in closer to Alex. It was magical to have this now. After all of the pining and the fighting and the suppressing the urge to kiss him, to finally have Alex in his arms felt surreal. It felt like it was too good to be real––like Henry would wake up at any moment. Well, if it was a dream, he wouldn't let it go to waste. He wanted to feel Alex in his entirety––to relish in the warmth of his skin. 

"You broke up with George, right?" Alex asked after a moment. 

"Yes."

"I...I'm sorry."

Henry frowned at him. "Whatever for?"

Alex shrugged and rested his head back on Henry's chest. He proceeded to glide his finger haphazardly over the skin there which sent shivers down Henry's spine. "That I ruined your relationship. I wasn't really thinking about him when I...when I kissed you that night. I was being selfish."

"Don't you dare apologize," Henry said, meaning every word. "I have been in love with you practically since the first moment I saw you in our literature class. George was, well, honestly, he was a placeholder. He's a great guy and in another life I think I could have been happy with him, but not in this one. You have consumed my thoughts for so long now that I'm afraid to admit I don't recall a time where my mind wasn't busy writing pages upon pages of useless information about you."

Alex squeezed Henry's waist, pulling him closer. He moved his head up and looked into Henry's eyes.

Henry felt his breath catch. 

"I love you," Alex said. Breathlessly. Like if he didn't say it again he might explode. "I don't have months of active pining to support it, but I think, somewhere deep inside of me, I always knew. It was confusing, though. Being your friend. I would think about you and I'd tell myself that it was normal."

"That what was normal?"

Alex shrugged again. "I dunno. I thinking about the way your hair falls just so. About how you smell. Your laugh. The way your eyes light up when you get passionate about something. All of these little things that make you, well, you. And I want you to know that I am, like, crazy in love with you. I thought I was going to drive myself insane with missing you."

Henry pressed a kiss to his lips in response. Alex instantly melted into it and Henry wondered, vacantly, how he had gone on so long without this. Kissing Alex was like breathing fresh air for the first time. It filled every part of him with this sense of satisfaction but also an incredible want and desire to do it forever. If he and Alex never left this bed, he would be perfectly content. 

"How long are you here for? Don't you have to go celebrate Christmas with your family?"

Henry frowned, really not wanting to get into it, but he knew that Alex would listen and understand. "I––I'm not exactly welcome right now. I came out to them about a week ago and they...they didn't take it well."

Alex's happy face fell. "Baby," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's quite alright. My sister, Bea, is supportive and I'm sure the rest will come around soon enough. They're just quite traditional. It came as a shock, I suppose."

Alex didn't say anything for a moment. Then his eyes lit up and he drummed his fingers on Henry's chest excitedly. "Oh, oh! I mean, you totally don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable, and we could just go as friends if you don't want anyone to know about us, or we––"

Henry couldn't help but smile at Alex's eager rambling. "What are you on about, you delightful rambler?"

Alex smiled back at him. "Come with me."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Where?" 

"To Austin. Texas. For Christmas."

Henry was at a loss for words. "I––with your family?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah. Yeah! Babe, it'll be so fun. We can get drunk, I'll show you Texas, I'll make you eat barbecue. It'll be amazing."

Henry thought about it for a moment––spending the holiday with Alex's family instead of his own. Would they accept him? Would they accept Alex? As far as he knew, Alex hadn't come out to his family yet, considering it was a recent development. Would it be better or worse if Henry was there for that conversation and the possible fallout?

"You really don't have to invite me," Henry said, hoping to give Alex an out if he wanted it. "I'm perfectly content going back or––"

"I want you to come," Alex said, his eyes big and earnest. "Really. And...I mean, would it be okay if..."

Henry squeezed Alex a little tighter, urging him to continue. 

"I want to be your boyfriend," Alex whispered.

"Alex..." he sighed, trying to figure out what to say. "I don't think you've thought this through."

Alex's eyebrows crinkled together. "What? Hen, you're the only think I've been thinking about for, like, weeks. Months if I'm being honest."

"As a fantasy," Henry argued. "You'll be here in D.C. and I'll be London."

"I mean, you're almost done with school," Alex said. Which was true, but still. That would be months of long distance. Even then, Henry wasn't sure if he could just pick up and move to D.C. to be with Alex. He had a life in London. Friends, family. His whole life was in England, and, even if Alex was in America, Henry wasn't sure it would be possible for him to move so far away to be with him. 

"It's not that I don't want this," Henry admitted, brushing his thumb lazily over Alex's jaw, "because I do. Desperately. It's just...it seems impossible."

Alex shook his head, clearly already having made up his mind. "I know. And I have no idea what will happen in the future, but I know that I want you. I want this. And we have time to figure all that out, but first I just want to know if, when we go to Austin, you'll go as my boyfriend. I want you to meet my family as my boyfriend, not just a friend or something."

Henry grinned at him, feeling so overwhelmed with love for this optimistic America that he thought his heart might explode. "If you're sure," Henry caved, "then yes. I want that."

Alex pulled him into a kiss and Henry couldn't help but feel that, somehow, things would work out because, with Alex somewhere out there loving him back, there was nothing that they couldn't do.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm like way into this idea and I'm going to make a sequel or add more chapters on this one. So, this isn't the last of it. Sorry! I mean, it's certainly an ending, but it's also just the beginning :)


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, another chapter? Oh, chapter 10 was just a break? Interesting.

Alex was bouncing his knee nervously in the Lyft to his house from the airport. Henry was still by his side, thankfully, but his presence did little to ease Alex’s anxious mind. He had no idea how his family would handle this. They were liberal and had, historically, been very nice and supportive of the LGBTQ+ community, but Alex knew it might have been different when it was a stranger than when it was their own son. Maybe he should have texted them ahead of time to make sure it was okay to even bring someone, but it was too late for that now. Henry put a hand on Alex’s knee to steady it.

“Love, if you don’t want me to come––“

“No,” Alex insisted, setting his own hand on top of Henry’s, “that’s not it. I’m just…nervous, you know? I didn’t even tell them I was bringing someone, let alone that I was bringing my boyfriend.”

Henry nodded in understanding and rested his head on Alex’s shoulder. Alex noted that it must have been a bit uncomfortable for him, given the height difference, but he wasn’t about to object to it. Even though he had known for a while now that he was at least into, then in love, with Henry, this was all still new to him. Every touch set his nerves on fire––made something warm and sweet cackle delightfully in his chest. God, he could never get used to this. It was too good and exciting to fade into the background.

“I don’t have to be your boyfriend today,” Henry offered.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you do. There’s no way in hell that I’m letting every person know that I landed you. Seriously, Hen. I don’t want to hide this, not even from my family. You’re too important to me.”

Henry hummed contently on his shoulder and placed a quick kiss to the nearest spot he could reach––Alex’s neck. That did funny things to Alex’s insides––the promise of more of Henry’s kisses and the exploration of his body later tonight when things settled down.

“Fuck, this is my street,” Alex groaned, feeling his whole body tense at the familiar houses and greenery.

Henry lifted his head off of his shoulder and looked out the window. Alex watched Henry take in the street––how he looked at each house like somehow seeing it would help him understand Alex’s childhood. His eyes scanned the street for details to commit to memory and Alex felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. Fuck, how did he get so lucky? How, despite everything, did he somehow have the love of such a perfect man? A man who desperately wanted to know Alex inside and out, a man who had seen his flaws and still chose to love him anyway? Never in his whole life did Alex think he would be so lucky. Henry was a dream––too good to be a real human being. Alex weaved their fingers together, eager to feel Henry’s hand in his own. He needed Henry to ground him. He needed the feeling of Henry’s skin against his own just to prove to himself that this was all real.

The Lyft stopped in front of the familiar house. The four walls that Alex had grown up in. Previously, whenever he came back to this house, it felt like stepping back into his childhood. His room hadn’t changed a bit so it was easy to just fall back into who he had been in high school. Now, though, Alex wasn’t the same person he had been in this house. He was different––braver, maybe. His heart was more wild and his dreams were more than goals he could achieve in an office. Growing up here, Alex had never known real love. The boy with the lacrosse trophies and a hidden bottle of whiskey never really wanted a love story. He wanted to make a difference in the world and be a political star. This Alex, the man he was now, couldn’t even imagine living a life without knowing this feeling inside his chest––a feeling that was so big and powerful that he wasn’t sure he would be able to contain it for much longer. He looked over at Henry as the car rolled to a stop and felt that feeling grow a bit more, especially when the sides of Henry’s mouth quirked up at him in a nervous but totally endearing smile.

Alex took a deep breath, squeezed Henry’s hand, and opened the car door.

They retrieved their luggage from the trunk and walked up the few steps to the front door. Alex debated whether he should take Henry’s hand––if it would be too much––but quickly decided that having Henry as close as possible would be necessary. He knew what it was like to have Henry in his arms and now it would always be his favorite feeling. If he had the option, he would take it without hesitation.

He rang the doorbell and waited anxiously for someone to come let him in. He wasn’t sure who he wanted to greet him. Who would make this whole thing easier?

June answered the door with a smile on her face. She threw her arms out and tackled Alex in a hug. Alex, only able to utilize one arm, hugged her back. God, it felt so nice to see her. They’d talked while he was away, but he had missed the feeling of her physical presence. She smelled like spices and egg nog which must have meant that the festivities were well underway.

She pulled back and smiled at him before turning her attention to Henry. Or, more accurately, to their joint hands.

“I’m June,” she said, extending her hand for Henry.

He shook it. “I’m Henry.”

Their hands dropped and June leaned against the doorframe, not letting them in. Alex felt his blood run cold. Was this it? Was June going to tell him to pretend that Henry was a friend before she let them enter?

“You came back for my brother, huh?”

Henry looked at Alex nervously before nodding. “Uh, yes.”

Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “How did––“

June made a dismissive hand gesture. “Please. Nora told me everything. How else was she supposed to deal with your dramatics?”

Alex opened his mouth to argue, but June cut him off.

“So, Henry,” she smiled, slinging one hand around Henry’s shoulder and guiding him inside. Henry and Alex’s hands got separated as June whisked him inside. Alex followed, dragging his suitcase behind him and shutting the door. “Are you moving here to be with my baby brother?”

Alex groaned and set his suitcase by the staircase. “Can we not?” he begged, returning to Henry and June and taking Henry’s hand back. “I want to tell mom and dad before we even start with the whole future talk.”

“Fine, fine. You’re not nervous, are you?”

Alex shrugged. “I mean, kind of? What if they don’t react the way I think they will?”

June sighed and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “It’ll be fine, Alex. You know that mom and dad are super chill. They’ll just be happy that you’re happy.”

“I guess. Where are they, anyway?”

June smiled at him and started walking towards the kitchen. “Outside. Mom’s on the grill and we’re all drinking some eggnog while we wait.”

Alex let June lead him and Henry outside so he could get the formalities and awkwardness over with. He wondered if he should have booked a hotel for the two of them instead of assuming that they’d be allowed to stay in Alex’s room. What if his mom didn’t want them sharing a room? What if she didn’t want them here at all? Alex was panicking. Henry squeezed his hand but even that gesture did little to soothe Alex’s racing mind. All he could think about was an image of him and Henry being thrown out and banished from Christmas festivities. Maybe he should have said they were just friends…no. No, Alex refused to lie about this. He needed to tell the truth––he wouldn’t just hide Henry away to make it easier for everyone to swallow.

The backyard smelled delicious. His mom was at the grill, flipping ribs, and his dad and Leo were sitting in lawn chairs with cups of eggnog in hand. They all paused what they were doing when Alex, June, and Henry stepped down the stairs and onto the grass. His dad jumped out of his seat to scoop him up in a big hug while his mom anxiously awaited her turn to greet him with a smile on her face.

Once he had hugged all three of them, Leo included, he cleared his throat awkwardly and gestured to Henry. “Y’all, this is Henry,” he said. Henry smiled nervously. “My, uh, my boyfriend.”

Alex was expecting a shocked silence. A gasp. Something big and dramatic. Instead, his family looked at Henry for a moment before smiling and introducing themselves. Alex sat back and watched as Henry answered questions about where he was from, how they met, and what he was studying. That feeling in Alex’s chest grew exponentially while Henry made his family smile and laugh.

This was it: everything he hadn’t even known he wanted. Henry with his soft, blond hair getting tousled playfully by Oscar. Henry with a big smile on his face, finally able to feel comfortable around a family, even if it wasn’t his own. Henry and that elated glint in his eye when he turned to face Alex. Alex’s heart clenched uncontrollably at the sight of it. God, how was he ever going to give this up when Henry inevitably had to go back to England?


	12. Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEXY TIMES  
> First time writing smut.   
> You've been warned.

Alex’s parents had no qualms about letting them share a room. In fact, they nearly insisted. They claimed that they were both adults who could handle themselves and make smart decisions, which was certainly true for Henry, but less so for Alex. By eleven, Henry was tired due to jet-lag and everyone else was outside drinking and sharing stories. When Alex saw Henry yawn for a third time, he decided to take matters into his own hands and get his lovely boyfriend to a bed. Alex led the way upstairs, only pausing briefly when Henry noticed a picture of a young Alex and stopped to look at it so Alex had to tug on his arm. Since Henry had been yawning so much, Alex had been expecting him to basically collapse as soon as the bed was in sight. He envisioned a little domestic scene where Henry fell onto the mattress and Alex had to help undress him and get him ready for bed. The thought was thrilling for him, having never really done anything domestic with anyone else before, but as soon as the door closed, Alex was pushed up against it and Henry’s mouth was a breath away from his own.

He looked up at Henry, into those blue eyes that were dark and mischievous in the dim lighting of Alex’s old bedroom. Henry kept his lips close to Alex’s but not actually on them as he slipped one hand onto Alex’s hips, his fingertips pushing into the flesh there. His other hand was braced against the door like he couldn’t manage to stand up straight without the extra support.

“I’ve been wanting my mouth on you,” Henry whispered, his breath hot and tantalizing against Alex’s parted lips, “all bloody afternoon.”

Alex swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and looked down at Henry’s lips––magnetized. “Then what you waiting for, Hen?”

Henry growled and quickly pressed his lips (finally) against Alex’s. Alex let his eyes flutter shut and his mouth part eagerly, wanting to explore every inch of Henry tonight. They’d seen each other naked, now, so this would be nothing like the first time. The first time was pure desperation and want and they had both been too eager to finally get their hands on each other to care much about lasting for more than a few minutes once the clothes were off. This time, though, they had time. Alex had a list of everything he wanted to do to Henry and he was not going to stop until every single one was crossed off. Starting with his fucking hair.

Alex tore his fingers through it, letting the silky strands slip through his fingers as he tugged over and over again, trying to get a decent hold of it. Henry moaned into his mouth at a particularly hard tug which made Alex smile against his lips. He loved that sound––that unrefined, unpolished, totally natural and raw sound as it tore through Henry’s body. God, Alex wanted to hear that sound again. He rolled his hips against Henry which earns him another moan. Alex realized that there were far too many layers of clothing between them.

He decided to take matters into his own hands. He pushed Henry back, keeping his mouth desperately on his, and made him stumble back and onto the bed. Henry’s knees bent as the mattress bumped up against the back of him, letting himself fall backwards onto the bed. Their lips parted in the process, but Alex didn’t really mind it. He let himself look at Henry, rosy-cheeked and panting, on the bed below him. The evidence of how much he wanted this right there for Alex to see. And, oh God, if the sight of Henry’s excitement didn’t make Alex’s cock twitch.

With a low, guttural growl, Alex pounced, landing on top of Henry, his knees on either side of him. Henry wasted no time in bringing their lips back together. Alex started to undo Henry’s buttons, vacantly wondering why Henry insisted on wearing so many fucking buttons, while Henry lifted the hem of Alex’s shirt. As soon as all of the buttons were undone, leaving Henry’s collared shirt parted and gathered at his sides, Alex lifted his arms and Henry gracefully swooped the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then he shrugged himself out of his shirt, discarding it, and looked at Alex for a moment. Both of their breathing was ragged and short, but it didn’t matter. Alex had never felt so alive and energized in his entire life.

He ran his fingers over the lines of Henry’s chest, down and along each visible muscle. Henry looked up at him, from under those long, gorgeous lashes, and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing?” Henry whispered, sounding out of breath.

Alex flashed him a grin and rested one hand in the center of his chest and the other under his jaw. “You’re just so fucking beautiful,” Alex whispered back, totally dumb-founded and awe-struck.

Henry rolled his eyes and kissed Alex again––the only surefire way to get Alex to shut the fuck up.

Henry’s arms dipped under the waistband of Alex’s jeans, cupping Alex’s ass firmly. Alex pulled back to start working on Henry’s fly, eager to get his boyfriend out of his fucking pants. Henry slid up, propping himself up on his elbows, to give Alex a better angle to work with. Alex sat back on his heels and dragged Henry’s pants down his long legs, grateful when Henry raised his hips so Alex could work them off. He took off his own jeans and dumped them on the floor. They were both in nothing in their underwear now, and even though Alex had seen Henry this way before, it still set every fucking nerve alight. God, Henry was so beautiful. He was beautiful everywhere, but he was especially beautiful here: under Alex with the soft light from the streetlights outside hitting his hair and body just so.

Henry smiled up at him sheepishly before Alex remembered that he didn’t just have to admire Henry from a far anymore––he could touch him. Kiss him. So that’s exactly what Alex did.

He leaned back down and captured Henry’s lips again before he started to work his mouth down to Henry’s neck, nipping at the skin under his jaw. Henry’s hands wound themselves in Alex’s curls as Alex nipped and sucked, wanting to be very certain that he was leaving marks. He needed everyone from Texas to London to know that Henry was his. When he was satisfied with his work on Henry’s neck, he made his way down to Henry’s stomach, leaving kisses and little nips on the way. Henry was shuddering and groaning beneath him and subconsciously bucking his hips up into Alex, clearly desperate for attention. Alex smirked at the thought of Henry wanting him so badly that he lost all sense of pleasantries and patience. Knowing that Henry wanted this as badly as he did lit a fire in Alex’s stomach and made him bypass an entire stretch of Henry’s beautiful, smooth skin, too eager to get to his final destination.

Henry sucked in a breath as Alex started mouthing at his erection through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Alex,” Henry begged in a low whine.

Alex paused and moved his head back a bit, looking up at Henry with a raised eyebrow.“What do you want?” He let his fingers hook into the waistband as he waited for Henry’s response.

Henry took in a shaky breath and reached down to cup Alex’s jaw in his hand. “You,” he breathed.

Thinking that Henry was done speaking, Alex started to slide his briefs off.

“Inside me.”

Alex paused, looking down at the base of Henry’s dick. He hadn’t actually managed to get the blasted things off him yet, and he wasn’t sure what to do now that Henry had said that. Had Henry said that? It was so quiet, so desperate, so truthful that Alex had to do a double-take. Slowly, very slowly, he moved his eyes up Henry’s body and to his blue eyes.

“What?”

“I––“

“Did you…do you really want that?” He didn’t want to just assume anything. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it––hadn’t gotten off to thinking about it. Being inside Henry, being that fucking close to him…it seemed like a dream. But Alex never wanted to assume that it was a dream that would become a reality.

Henry nodded and ran his finger over Alex’s jawline. It was so tender and loving that it made Alex want to cry. “Yes,” he said, his voice stronger now. “Desperately.”

The thought of being inside of Henry made Alex’s cock twitch eagerly, so he reached up and kissed Henry soundly before finishing the task at hand: getting these fucking boxers off of him.

As soon as the material was low enough, Henry’s cock sprang up, hitting his stomach ceremoniously. Alex gave the tip of it––which was already wet and leaking with precome––an open-mouthed kiss of appreciation before he removed his own boxers.

“I don’t…” Alex started, still looking at Henry’s beautiful, long, thick cock. God, he had so many things he wanted to do it. He may have been inexperienced, but he was a quick learner. He tore his gaze away from it and met Henry’s confused eyes. “I don’t have anything.”

Henry smiled at him and sat up, planting a soft kiss onto Alex’s forehead. “If you go into my suitcase, there’s a travel toiletries kit,” Henry instructed.

Alex nodded and rolled off the bed to go and find this aforementioned kit. He squatted down in front of Henry’s discarded suitcase and unzipped it.

“God,” Henry groaned from the bed, “do hurry.”

Alex paused and looked back at him, a smirk on his face. “What, are we in a rush or something?”

Henry dramatically covered his eyes with one arm, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I can’t bear to look at you right now. Christ, Alex, you’re so bloody gorgeous.”

Alex felt his cheeks heat-up so he turned back to the suitcase to save himself from an embarrassing comment about it. He found the kit and tossed it over his shoulder before zipping the suitcase back up and making his way over to the bed. Henry set the kit down on his stomach and fished around for a moment before he produced a condom and a small, travel-sized bottle of lube.

“Are you actually fucking serious right now?” Alex laughed, picking up the bottle and turning it over in his hands.

Henry rolled his eyes, zipped the kit, and tossed it aside. “Shut up,” he chuckled, taking the bottle back.

“How do you, uh, want to do this?”

Henry set the bottle down on the bed and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Alex’s shoulders. “Face to face,” he whispered against Alex’s lips. “I want to be able to see you.”

Alex’s breath hitched in his throat. This wasn’t going to be like any other time he’d had sex––he knew that much. The fact that Henry didn’t want to look away from him, even though it seemed like other positions might have been far more comfortable, sent a shiver down Alex’s spine. He knew it would be hard to last long inside of Henry, let alone with Henry looking at him the whole time. Even if Henry’s eyes weren’t open, Alex would still be able to see his parted lips, the way his body jumped with each thrust…Jesus fucking Christ, Alex needed to get in him now before he came apart at the seams.

“I need you to tell me if it’s not good,” Alex told him, trying to tear the wrapper off the condom with trembling hands. Henry set his hands on top of Alex’s and took the condom from him, tearing it open in one swift motion.

“If you don’t want to––“

“No!” Alex nearly shouted. He took the condom from Henry’s open palm and looked down at it as he turned it over in his hands. “I want to. I’m just…nervous, I guess. I want it to be good for you. This’ll be my first time with a guy, and with you, and I don’t know how George was but––“

“Hey,” Henry said, putting a hand behind Alex’s neck and bringing their foreheads together. “It will be good. It will be amazing because it will be with you.”

Alex looked up at him, right into those eyes hooded by his long, dark lashes. “I love you,” he told him in a whisper.

Henry kissed him softly. “I love you, too,” he assured him. He pulled away, removing his hand, and leaned against the headboard, legs spread and bent. “I should probably, er…” he said, his voice trailing off as he moved two fingers down towards his hole.

“Can…” Alex thought about it for a moment. “Can I do that?”

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. “You want to? You don’t have to, you know. It’s perfectly––”

Alex shook his head and set the condom down, knowing that he had more important things to tend to first. “I want to make this good for you.”

He tried to swallow his nerves as he tried to think about what the best angle was. He decided that he wanted to do it on his stomach, so he positioned himself between Henry’s legs, his eyes staring right Henry’s eager cock. Oh, this could be fun.

He got the discarded lube and put a bit on two of his fingers before slowly bringing them to Henry’s hole, dragging them around the rim of it. Henry sighed and closed his eyes at the feeling of it. It was a promising start, but Alex was nowhere near done yet. Once he felt that Henry was ready, based solely on the way that Henry’s muscles unclenched and his head rolled back onto the headboard, Alex stuck one finger in, making sure to take his time and go only to the middle of his finger as not to overwhelm him.

“This good?” he asked, looking up at Henry.

Henry nodded and let out a sound that sounded a lot like “ympph.” Alex grinned up at him and stuck the rest of his finger in, moving it around a bit to get Henry to lose up.

“More,” Henry begged from above him. Alex complied and added another finger, careful to go slow. Then, while he worked two fingers inside of Henry, he got a wonderful idea. While he let his fingers move, he used his other hand to start lazily pumping Henry’s cock, just to give him more pleasure. While both of his hands worked, he moved his mouth to Henry’s balls and took one in his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around the velvet-soft skin there. Henry moaned above him and, fuck, that turned Alex on. He started working on his other ball, not caring that his hand was cramping, and started to rut against the mattress.

Henry’s hands found their way into Alex’s hair, tugging at the curls there. It took Alex a second to realize that Henry was pulling him off of him,

“What? Was that not––”

“No, it was perfect. I just…I’m ready. Christ, Alex, I want you.”

Alex smiled and pulled himself off and up, sitting back on his heels as he picked up the condom and slid it over himself. “I love you,” he told Henry again. He leaned down and placed a gentle nip at Henry’s thigh which made him groan and writhe.

“Please,” Henry begged.

Alex nodded and lined himself up, putting more lube on the condom, willing himself to last more than a second once inside. He slowly pushed himself in, just the tip, and waited for Henry to say something.

Henry nodded eagerly so Alex pushed himself in bit by bit until he was slowly situated inside of Henry. God, the feeling was so exquisite. Henry was so warm and tight and inviting and Alex knew that everything he was feeling right now was multiplied exponentially because it was Henry.

Alex set his hand on Henry’s shoulder, pulling him a bit closer so he could kiss him, and got to work. He started with slow thrusts, not wanting to hurt him, before Henry moaned and begged him to go faster––begged for more, more, more. Alex wasn’t sure if he was doing this right or if this was as good for Henry as it was for him until Henry threw his head back and moaned deeply, his fists clenching the sheets.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Christ.”

“Did I––“

“Yes, and don’t you dare stop.”

Alex nodded and thrust into him again, eager to hit the spot that made Henry come apart like that. He kept going until he felt the pleasure build in his stomach, knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer. Honestly, he was surprised that he had lasted this long already. Eager to have Henry join him at the finish line, he worked his hand on Henry’s cock, twisting and pressing down on the tip until they were both filled with toe-curling bliss. A stream of undecipherable obscenities in both English and Spanish tumbled out of Alex’s mouth as he closed his eyes, letting the feeling swallow him whole. The white, numbing, beautiful bliss of coming inside of Henry: the man he loved.

“Henry,” he moaned, throwing his head back as the feeling took over him.

When he came back to himself, he felt boneless and exhausted. He pulled himself out of Henry, who still has his eyes closed and had gone perfectly still, took off the condom, and collapsed by Henry’s side, resting his head on Henry’s chest. Henry’s arm instantly hugged him closer, but Henry didn’t say anything.

“Hen,” Alex said, peeking up at him. “Are you okay? Was…was I okay?”

Henry opened his eyes and looked down at Alex with a smile on his face. “You were amazing. I––I think that was the best orgasm of my life.”

Alex grinned and kissed the nearest bit of skin. He realized that Henry’s chest was sticky with come and that they should probably both shower or something, but he was too blissed out to even move. Well, that could be a problem for future Alex. Right now, he needed to cuddle his ridiculously amazing, sexy, beautiful boyfriend.


	13. Thirteen

Henry blinked awake, still feeling warm and satisfied. When he opened his eyes, he found that he had somehow managed to wrap himself around Alex while he was sleeping. He smiled at the sight of it––of Alex’s curls under his chin, of Alex’s tangled in his own. The sheets were mostly off the bed, likely kicked off by Alex during the night, so Henry saw that Alex was still very, very naked. And he didn’t much mind that part, either. He closed his eyes for a moment, still smiling like an idiot, and thought about last night. God, it had been perfect. The way their bodies melded together…it was almost like they were always meant to do this. Like the universe had crafted each one to fit perfectly within the other like puzzle pieces.

The only thing that troubled him was Alex’s hesitation, especially since that hesitation came with the name George. Henry wanted to tell him that, yes, he had done this before, but never like this. Never with someone he loved, especially someone he loved so deeply and completely that it physically hurt when they had to be apart. That was part of the problem, though. How was Henry supposed to drag himself back to London without Alex by his side? There would be no way to fill that ache in his soul until summer when he could come back to the States or Alex could come visit him in London. Henry could already feel the depression creeping up into his mind at the mere thought of having to leave this behind. So, instead of focusing on it, he placed a kiss into Alex’s curls and willed himself to live in the moment, even though the sight of such a peaceful Alex made him want to cry.

Alex mumbled and rolled over to face Henry. Henry froze, not wanting to disturb Alex’s slumber, but then Alex opened his eyes, clearly awake. He stared at Henry with a confused expression before a grin overtook his face and he planted a soft kiss on Henry’s lips.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he said when he pulled away.

God, that name did funny things to Henry’s insides. “Morning, love.”

Alex kissed him again before rolling over to fetch his phone from the nightstand. “Oh, shit. It’s Christmas.”

Henry chuckled at him and planted a kiss onto his bare shoulder. “Mm, indeed.”

Alex set his phone down and rolled back over, securing his arms around Henry’s waist. “Merry Christmas, Henry.”

“Merry Christmas, Alex.”

Alex chuckled and buried his face into Henry’s chest so Henry let his hands comb through Alex’s curls for a moment. He felt a vibration on his chest but couldn’t make out what Alex was trying to say.

“What?”

Alex pulled back and looked up at him. “There’s probably breakfast downstairs.”

Somehow, Henry had forgotten about this part: the whole celebrating Christmas with Alex’s family thing. He supposed it would be awkward considering he wasn’t part of the family and hadn’t purchased gifts for anyone. Christ, he hadn’t even purchased a gift for Alex. He fiddled with his family ring absent-mindedly while he pondered what he could possibly do to make up for his lack of a gift. He supposed that Alex probably hadn’t gotten him anything either, unless he’d picked something up at the airport, so maybe it would all be fine. Still, Henry felt guilty for not thinking this through. He wondered if he should stay in Alex’s room like a recluse until the gift exchange was done. He had packed some Jaffa Cakes so he would be satisfied with reading and eating them until all of the family traditions were done.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Alex said, brows furrowed. “It’s only breakfast.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “It’s Christmas,” he argued. “Your family’s Christmas.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to intrude. I haven’t gotten anyone gifts or anything. I didn’t even get you anything, let alone your parents or June.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You did get me something.”

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. “Did I?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, trailing a finger down Henry’s arm. It made him shiver. “You came across the ocean to tell me you loved me. And last night…” his voice trailed off for a moment. “Last night was amazing for me, Henry. Really.”

Henry beamed at him. “It was amazing for me, too,” he said. “I’ve never…I’ve never done that before with someone I actually loved. Someone who loved me back.”

“Me neither.”

They sat in a heavy silence for a moment, just looking at each other. Henry wondered if Alex was thinking about how hard it would be to part ways for a while after this was over. He wondered if Alex was feeling awful about this whole situation. There was nothing either of them could do, of course, but still. Henry knew that each of these moments was a countdown of sorts until their final moment, their final kiss. For a long while, at any rate. FaceTime would help him talk to Alex, but it wouldn’t be able to help satisfy the need he had for Alex’s body––to feel Alex’s lips on his own or the euphoric feeling of Alex inside of him. Maybe they shouldn’t have had sex. Now that they had done it, Henry knew exactly what he’d be missing.

“Come on,” Alex said, breaking the silence, “let’s get dressed and go downstairs. My parents make a kick-ass breakfast spread.”

They got dressed quickly and headed downstairs. The kitchen was a mess but there was, as promised, a delightful spread. There were what Henry assumed to be traditional American things like pancakes and bacon, but there were also chilaquiles and tamales. It made Henry’s heart swell to see Alex put large portions of both types of food on his plate while wishing his parents a merry Christmas.

Alex led Henry over to the dining room table but didn’t sit down next to him. Henry looked up at him, already seated and very excited to try this amazing breakfast, with a look of confusion. “You’re not staying?”

Alex shook his head. “I have something I need to do real quick before we do presents. I’ll be back soon, okay?” He quickly kissed Henry’s cheek before disappearing, leaving Henry by himself at the large dining room table.

He started to dig in when someone slid into the seat across from him. It was Oscar with his own helping of various foods and a smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Diaz,” Henry said.

“Please, call me Oscar.”

Henry smiled sheepishly and took a bite of the tamale. God, it was fucking delicious. No wonder Alex always complained about English food. The flavor was unreal.

“So, you and Alex, huh?”

Henry felt his face heat up. “Er, yes. I, uh––”

“Relax,” Oscar chuckled, “I’m happy about it. I thought he’d never find someone he really connected with, you know? Someone that makes him so happy.”

Henry had no idea what to say to that. “He’s a great guy.” Was that the right thing to say? He’d never met any guy’s parents before.

“He is. He’s a happy kid most of the time, but there’s this anxious side of him, too. He’s pretty good at hiding it most of the time, but it’s always there. His brain works in funny ways and not always in productive ways.”

Henry nodded, knowing exactly what Oscar meant. He’d seen it in Alex since the beginning––since the late night phone call, at least. They both tended to overthink things but in very different ways. Henry always stressed about the future and let it get him down, but Alex always plowed right through without much hesitation. Things effected him, though. Henry could see that. George, for one, was a sore subject for him. He wasn’t sure why it was such an obstacle for Alex, but he wanted desperately to understand it so he could make it easier for him. So he could take some of his anxiety away. But anxiety didn’t work like that, especially for Alex, so all Henry could really do was try to ground him, he supposed.

“When he’s with you, he seems better. More…present.”

Henry fought the urge to cry at that. “He makes me more present, too. He’s…he’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. I can see now where he gets that from.”

Oscar smiled at him again and Henry felt his heart clench in his chest.

Was this what he was missing out on? He never knew that families could support and love each other so deeply and vehemently. He’d thought his friends were exaggerating, but it was very clear that kind, supportive families did exist. Alex’s family, though a bit chaotic, was the warmest group of people Henry had ever met. He wished that this was what his family was like. He wished that he could be good enough to stay in Alex’s life and keep learning about his family and his past and everything that made him the wonderful man he was.

They carried on talking while they ate. Oscar asked him about his own family and about his goals for the future. By the time they were done eating, Henry was full in every sense of the word––both physically and emotionally. Oscar’s kind smile and thoughtful questions made Henry feel like he belonged here with them for Christmas––like he was a part of the family already. It also made him think about Alex and their future a bit differently. All hesitation was suddenly gone and replaced with a need to somehow show Alex that he was committed to trying to make this work.

He asked Ellen for some wrapping paper and a small box, which he provided, and he got to work.

The family insisted that he stay downstairs with them for the gift exchange so Henry sat himself down on the sofa while he waited for Alex to come back down. Leo presented him with a cup of hot chocolate which he gratefully accepted, happy to have something to fiddle with while he anxiously thought about his gift for Alex. Was it too much? Too soon? Not enough? He was a nervous wreck by the time Alex came down, set some stuff under the tree, and sat down next to him. Alex instantly attached himself to Henry, putting his head into the crook of his neck and his arms loosely around his torso. Henry hummed happily and pressed a kiss into his curls.

Ellen and June make quick work of distributing all of the gifts before everyone started opening them. Henry was surprised that he received two gifts, thinking he wouldn’t have gotten any at all. He watched as they took turns tearing into the wrapping paper and thanking whoever the tag said got them the gift. When it was Henry’s turn, he opened the gift from the family first. He opened it and found a beautiful maroon sweater that he could already picture himself wearing a lot back home. He thanked them profusely and sat back to watch the rest of the gift exchange until the only two presents left were the gifts he and Alex had managed to get each other on such short notice. The rest of the family busied themselves with cleaning up and making lunch, giving them space.

“I didn’t think you’d have gotten me anything,” Henry said, turning the small thing over in his hands. It was the size of an envelope and haphazardly wrapped, but he was very excited to see what it was.

“It’s not technically a real gift,” Alex told him. “I mean, you can’t keep it or anything. It’s more symbolic, I guess? Whatever, just open it.”

Henry grinned at him and peeled the paper off to reveal a white envelope. He turned it to the front to see if there was something on it but the front was blank. He opened the envelope and took out the paper from within. He unfolded it and raised an eyebrow at what he found. It was a printed ticket from British Airways from D.C. to Heathrow. The date was set for March and Henry had no idea what it meant.

“What is this?” Was Alex suggesting he stay in the States until March? As appealing as that sounded, Henry had class and things to do in London that he couldn’t just put on hold.

“It’s for me, actually. It’s…uh, my spring break.”

Henry looked at him, completely dumbfounded. “Alex––“

“I don’t really want to go to Mexico or Florida or wherever everyone else is going. It won’t be fun for me if you’re not there, so I thought I should just, you know, go and visit you instead. If that’s okay?”

Henry let out a noise that was half a sob and half a laugh and kissed Alex fiercely. “I love you,” he said breathlessly when they pulled away.

Alex smiled at him. “I love you, too. So fucking much.”

Henry stared at him for a moment, so utterly consumed with love for him that it made his heart pound and twirl in his chest. Then he remembered that Alex hadn’t opened his gift yet so he picked it up and handed it to him.

Wordlessly, Alex took the gift and opened it. He opened the small box and gasped when he saw what was inside.

“It’s not a proposal or anything,” Henry assured him, picking up the small ring and setting it in the palm of Alex’s hand. “It’s my family ring, actually. I want you to keep it. Consider it a promise of sorts. It’s my way of telling you that, despite whatever may happen in the future, you will always have my heart. You’re more my family than most of my actual relatives at this point and––”

He was cut off when Alex kissed him, but he certainly didn’t mind the interruption. He could feel Alex’s tears hot on his cheeks, but he knew that they were happy ones. He kissed Alex back until they were both crying and smiling and happier than they had ever been.

It was a very merry Christmas indeed.


	14. Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut!  
> TW (?): light bondage (a tie)

Alex decided that Christmas wasn’t Christmas without sex. Well, this Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without sex. He had a beautiful boyfriend who looked absolutely dreamy in the low lighting and Alex felt the need to satisfy the urge he’d had all day to take Henry apart. That goddamn ring, that was the problem. Alex didn’t really consider jewelry to be a turn-on for him, but the fact that Henry gave it to him made his stomach perform some pretty ludicrous gymnastics. By nine, it was getting out of hand. He’d been sexually frustrated and eager since the gift exchange that morning, but he’d done a pretty good job of keeping himself in check. Whenever he got a good look at Henry doing literally anything––drinking hot chocolate, smiling, helping set the table––he read himself the Declaration of Independence to calm himself down.

_We the people…_

But by nine, he was itching to have Henry in bed. Preferably under him. They were all sitting by the fireplace and enjoying some spiked hot chocolate––Alex had found a use for the whipped cream-flavored vodka he had stashed away once upon a time––and exchanging stories from Christmases long since passed. Henry was in the middle of his own story when Alex has to bite his lip and adjust his position on the sofa. It wasn’t even a sexy story or anything, which annoyed him. It was Henry talking about this one time he had been forced to put on a concert for his whole family when he was eight and the words gave Alex a very clear mental picture of a young Henry seated at a piano bench. His hair would have been a bit longer back then, Alex supposed. His fingers would have been just as nimble as they were now. His hands would have danced across the keys and–– _fuck_ , why does Henry’s embarrassing story have to paint an image of him playing the piano now with a stupid smirk on his face when he looks at Alex? Alex growled a bit, annoyed at both Henry and himself, causing Henry to stop mid-sentence and look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you okay?”

Alex shook his head, his jaw clamped shut, set down his mug, and promptly left the room. He needed some space. Needed some time to let it out and get back to his family and Henry for festivities and such. Now was _not_ the time for him to get a fucking boner.

He hurried up to his room and slammed the door shut, already unzipping his pants to relieve himself. He could be quick, he could be quiet. He just needed a fucking release. Henry had been driving him _insane_ all day with feather-light touches on his back and his thigh and enough was enough. He palmed at himself through his boxers and let out a soft moan before stumbling over to his bed while kicking his pants off. He flopped down on the bed and slid his underwear down so his cock could be free of its cruel restraints. His eyes fluttered shut as he got a firm grip around himself and moved his thumb teasingly over the head, just to get himself started. His muscles relaxed as he moved his hand on himself, starting off slow as to not overwhelm himself. If anyone asked, he could say he took a shower or got sick or something. He had at least a few minutes before he had to answer anyone’s questions.

He started to pick up speed, his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth digging into his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning. He arched his back into the touch on reflex and, suddenly, heard the sound of his door opening.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaimed, trying to roll himself under the messy covers to hide himself. Instead, he rolled off the bed completely and face-down on the floor with a thud.

He figured that the intruder was June or his dad and he was absolutely mortified. It was one thing to casually talk about sex sometimes with either of them, but another thing completely for one of them to walk in on him _touching_ himself. Fuck, he would never be able to live this down. He needed to change families. Change his name. Did he have enough money tucked away to get his face redone?

“I didn’t know Christmas was so… _exciting_ for you,” a familiar, low voice bemused from the door.

Alex groaned and rolled himself over and saw Henry standing by the door––now closed, thankfully––with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his perfect face.

“ _You_ excited me,” Alex hissed, sitting himself up. He grabbed a pillow and covered himself which made Henry tilt his head. “You and your fucking…ugh.”

Henry chuckled and walked closer to him. He crouched down in front of him with that stupid fucking head tilt still there. “Sorry, my what?”

Alex sighed in annoyance. “Your fucking touches and drinking hot chocolate and talking about piano and––why are you laughing at me?”

Henry beamed and reached out to cup Alex’s jaw in his hand. “Christ, I was wondering when you’d lose it.”

Alex gaped at him. “You––You did it on _purpose_? Why?”

Henry situated himself on top of Alex, straddling his legs. Alex growled at the contact, removing the pillow to feel more of Henry against him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night,” he admitted in a sacred whisper. A prayer.

Alex looked at Henry’s lips, pink and parted and perfect, then back up into his eyes. “In a good way?”

Henry shook his head and moved his head a bit closer. It wasn’t close enough for their lips to touch, but it was enough for Alex to feel his breath against his lips. “In a way that I’m sure is not appropriate given that we’ve spent the day with your family.”

Henry closed the distance and Alex instantly melted into it, so relieved to finally have his lips on Henry’s. He tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt so there was no more space between them. It felt so right to have Henry here like this. In his hands. Safe. Loved. After last night, after finally knowing what it was like to be with Henry like that, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop thinking about it. He loved Henry’s mind, of course, but there was something magical about the way that their bodies connected even after a few hours. It had been the longest Christmas of his life but it felt like he was finally getting what he’d really asked for.

Just as suddenly as Henry had leaned in, he pulled away. He tucked a stray hair behind Alex’s ear and the gesture made Alex shiver. “I’ve told your family that you’re ill,” he said. “They send their thoughts and love but aren’t expecting you to make another appearance.”

“And you?”

“I, being the dutiful boyfriend, have agreed to hold your hair back, as it were.” With that, he gathered a handful of Alex’s hair and gave it a strong tug, lifting his head up and moving it back. While keeping his hold of Alex’s hair, he started to kiss down Alex’s jaw until he settled on the part of Alex’s neck right below his ear. Alex let out a moan at the feeling and he felt Henry smile against his skin, knowing fully well that this spot was Alex’s weak spot. He scrambled to find purchase, his hands frantically tugging at Henry’s shirt. The fabric was tight in his grip so he carefully moved his hands to Henry’s chest to start undoing the buttons. There were too many fucking buttons.

“Wait,” Alex gasped.

Henry’s lips instantly left his neck and he peered at Alex inquisitively behind long lashes that made Alex’s heart stutter in his chest. “Do you want to stop?”

Alex shook his head. “No. It’s just that my ass is getting sore. Bed?”

Henry nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Alex, too. Alex, standing now, felt suddenly very vulnerable and exposed. He was naked from the waist down and Henry was still fully dressed apart from the three undone buttons on his shirt. Alex let Henry move to the bed first before he followed. He pushed Henry back against the pillows and kissed him deeply, his fingers working quickly to get Henry out of his shirt. Henry’s hands found the hem of Alex’s loose three-buttoned shirt and started to tug it up and off his head. Alex pulled back for a moment to let Henry take it off before helping Henry shrug out of his own.

Alex trailed his kisses from Henry’s lips down his neck to his collar bone and down his chest. Henry was writhing under him, his hips bucking up to meet Alex in fervent movements. Alex slowly undid Henry’s fly, letting himself take his time to make Henry really come alive with want. He slid the pants down and worked them off, throwing them to the floor triumphantly. He took Henry’s waistband between his teeth and brought it away from his skin, maintaining eye-contact with Henry while he teased. After a moment, he released the elastic from his hold and it slapped down on Henry’s hips with a satisfying smack. Henry groaned and wiggled under him, obviously about to reach his limit with the teasing. Just to prolong his suffering, Alex planted his mouth on Henry’s bulge and planted kisses on the fabric covering him.

Henry hisses. “You’re a demon,” Henry gasped.

Alex smirked and started to grind down on the mattress, eager for release. Henry’s hands wound into his hair as Alex slowly slid his boxers off until Henry was left just as naked as he was––flushed, panting, and achingly hard. God, his cock was beautiful. Alex was convinced that it was the most beautiful dick on the planet: perfectly shaped and veiny with a glorious, slick crown. He wondered, vacantly, how he had been able to go so long without putting his mouth on it.

He put his mouth on it now because he could and because he needed to. He needed to have his mouth around Henry, working his tongue in all the right ways to draw little gasps and moans from him.

“I love you,” he said, drawing out each word with that stupid fucking accent that made Alex’s heart skip a beat and his toes curl.

Alex surged up and kissed him before pulling away. “I love you, too. And…I want…I want to try something, okay?”

Henry raised an eyebrow at him, perching himself up on his elbows to watch as Alex rolled to the side of the bed and blindly groped for something underneath. He emerged a moment later with the desired item in hand: a tie. He looked down at it, suddenly incredibly embarrassed. He felt his whole face grow warm.

“Can I tie you up?” he asked. He instantly regretted it when Henry’s eyes widened. He shook his head, regretting about half of his life choices. “I’m sorry. We don’t––”

Henry quickly kissed him to shut him up. Alex didn’t mind it. “Yes, I would like that. I’ve never, er, done that before, but I’d like to try.”

Alex blinked up at him. “Really? You’re sure?”

Henry nodded eagerly. “Yes. Now do it now before I kill you for teasing me.”

Alex’s throat went dry at the thought of that––of Henry punishing him––but he tucked the thought away for another time. In this moment, all he needed to focus on was Henry and the way he instantly pinned his wrists back for Alex to secure with the tie. Alex tied the tie around his wrists tight enough so it wouldn’t fall off but loose enough that it wouldn’t hurt him. He placed a kiss to Henry’s forearms before returning his lips to their proper place: Henry’s mouth.

He could feel Henry strain against the tie in an effort to move his hands to touch Alex. For some reason, the thought of Henry wanting so desperately to touch him but not being able to made his heart pound and ring in his ears. If the roles were reversed…

“What do you want me to do, baby?” Alex asked, pulling away just enough to whisper the words into the practically nonexistence space between them.

Henry peered up at him––eyes wide and breath ragged. “I want you to have your way with me,” Henry told him.

Alex’s mouth turned up in the corners to a mischievous grin. Oh, this was going to be fun.

He decided to start by getting Henry ready for what was to come. He moved his lips down to Henry’s eager cock and gave it a few licks, just to tease him. Henry hissed under his breath before Alex moved his mouth lower, wondering what it would be like to taste Henry at his entrance. He might have been new to all of this, but he was eager to find out what could get Henry to moan and writhe under him. He tentatively licked Henry’s hole and hovered to see his reaction.

Henry’s hips bucked and Alex felt his thighs tremble beneath his hands. “Christ,” Henry moaned.

Alex smirked up at him. “That okay, baby?”

Henry’s eyes twisted shut and he nodded. Alex saw him strain against the tie. Feeling more confident now, Alex lowered himself back down and started to run his tongue along the taut skin at Henry’s entrance, reveling in the taste and feel of it. He darted his tongue in and out, just to taunt him, as he used both of his hands to spread Henry’s beautiful and proportionate cheeks away for easier access.

He got lost in the thrill of having access to this new part of Henry. He was so consumed with the rhythm and the feel that he lost track of time. Henry squeezed his legs around Alex’s head to get his attention.

“Please.”

How was Alex supposed to refuse him?

Grinning, he pulled himself away and rolled over to fumble around in his bedside table drawer for the condoms and lube they had put there after their first time here. God, Henry was a genius for thinking of this. Alex set the lube down and started to open the condom wrapper until Henry’s foot stroked his dick.

He looked up in shock and Henry blushed nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t know how else to get your attention. Don’t put the condom on yet, okay? I––I want my mouth on you first.”

Alex blinked back at him for a moment, speechless, and nodded. He moved so he was against the headboard, essentially trading positions with Henry. Henry lowered his abdomen, unable to use his arms or elbows to prop himself up, and instantly fit his mouth over the crown of Alex’s leaking cock. Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as he reveled in the feeling of Henry’s warm, slick mouth on him. As soon as he noticed that his eyes had shut, he promptly opened them again so he could see Henry. Henry with his firm, defined chest muscles straining from the effort of holding him up while he bobbed up and down on Alex’s dick. Henry with his eyes closed like this––getting Alex off––was heaven for him. Like this was what he looked forward to.

Alex felt himself nearing the edge of this feeling––almost losing himself completely to it. He abruptly pulled Henry’s hair and forced his head off him.

“If you keep doing that,” he said, breathless, “I’m not going to be able to fuck you.”

Henry nodded in understanding and sat back on his heels, allowing Alex to push himself up, grab the condom, unwrap it, and slide it over himself. God, he had never been this hard in his life. This had been an entire day of fucking infuriating foreplay and Alex had had enough by now. Fuck, how was he supposed to go a full day––countless days––without this when Henry went back to London?

A thought for another time, he supposed.

For now, he would let himself enjoy it while he could.

He started to move up to position himself but Henry put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

“You’ve tied me up,” he said, pushing Alex’s back fully against the mattress, “now it’s my turn to get a wish.”

Alex reached up and strummed his fingers against Henry’s arm leaving goosebumps in his wake. “What’s your wish, baby?”

“I want to ride you.”

Alex felt all of the blood in his body rush instantly to his already eager cock. He couldn’t help but moan at the words. How was it possible that someone who was so sweet and sensitive and beautiful and smart was also, somehow, so fucking dirty? Was this what the sex had been like with George? All rough and crazy and passionate? Alex felt like they had talked too much or that the tying Henry up was weird or that he had been going about this wrong even without the thought of Henry’s previous sexual encounters.

He tried to look confident and not totally shaken (in the best way) by Henry’s demands. He nodded.

Henry leaned down and kissed him deeply before positioning himself––still without the use of his arms which was still turning Alex on––and sliding down. He inched down Alex’s dick slowly, letting himself adjust to the feel of it from this position. His legs found purchase on the sheets and he got himself comfortable before he started to rock back and forth with a tantalizing snap of his elegant hips.

It should have been illegal for him to both look so good and be so competent with his hands tied behind his fucking back. The muscles in his legs and chest rippled and tightened as he got to work and Alex, overcome with love and desire, couldn’t bring himself to look away––not even to blink. Henry’s eyes were closed and his lip was drawn between his teeth. His face was flushed and his hair was a mess and Alex was so in love that he thought he might die in that very moment from the sudden weight of it.

He didn’t last very long with Henry moving the way he was and looking the way he did. Henry was a fucking golden-haired angel that took Alex’s breath away completely clothed, let alone naked and on top of him. As soon as he felt himself go beyond the point of return, he dug his nails into Henry’s hips, bucked his hips, and moaned his name. He was careful to be mindful of his family lurking elsewhere in the house which somehow just made this whole thing a lot fucking hotter. Henry came with parted lips and a near-silent oh hanging in his mouth. He instantly rolled off of Alex and collapsed nearly completely on top of him, burying his head into the crook of Alex’s neck and winding his hands in Alex’s messy curls.

Alex’s hands found their way around Henry’s back and stroked delicately at the flawless skin there. He pressed kisses to Henry’s shoulders and neck, unable to do much else. He was blissed out. Boneless. On a different plane of existence.

“I love you,” he told Henry.

Henry lifted his head a bit, smiled at him, and said, “I love you, too.”

As Alex drifted off to sleep that night, a naked Henry in his arms, he smiled and thought to himself about how this was the best Christmas he could have possibly asked for.


	15. Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy quarantine! here's a really terrible chapter for your reading pleasure.

Henry had expected to wake up slowly with the soft morning light behind his eyes and a soft, cuddly Alex in his arms. He had expected to have time to wake himself up, to get his brain functioning, and smile lovingly at his boyfriend. Maybe, just maybe, Alex would even have woken him up with a tender kiss and a deep-voiced “good morning, baby.” It would have been a delicate, beautiful moment––a moment for Henry to engrave in his mind and carry across the ocean with him when he inevitably had to return to England. It would have been the gentle sort of memory that made him smile when he looked back on it, even in the darkest of times.

Instead, he woke up to bright light and Alex jumping on him like a child whilst shaking him awake.

“Get up, get up, get up,” Alex said while shaking him.

Henry groaned and pulled the blankets back up and over his head, hoping to hide in dreamland for just a while longer.

Alex, it seemed, was a man on a mission. He yanked the blankets down and practically off the bed to get Henry out of his warm cocoon. Henry blinked one eye open and glared at Alex with as much anger as he could muster before he saw the dopey grin on Alex’s face and that damned twinkle in his eyes that made Henry feel precious and sacred and adored. His face softened at the sight of his beautiful boyfriend in the early morning light.

“Well, aren’t _you_ excited?” Henry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alex rolled his eyes and tugged on his arm, trying to get Henry out of bed. Normally, Henry would have protested. His body had jumped between three different time zones in such a short period of time and he was exhausted beyond belief, but Alex was smiling and bouncy and Henry didn’t have the heart to ask for five more minutes. If Alex wanted to drag him out of bed at such an ungodly hour the day after Christmas, Henry would go willingly. He’d follow Alex anywhere if he asked. Or, maybe, Alex wouldn’t have to ask at all. After all, Henry did follow him to America completely unwarranted.

“Come on, get dressed,” Alex begged as Henry’s feet made contact with the carpet. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked up at Alex who was now standing in front of him. Henry realized that Alex was fully dressed––dark grey chinos and a red and white baseball tee.

“Are we on schedule?” Henry asked, standing up and stretching his tired limbs. Alex groaned at him, clearly more impatient than normal, and hurried over to Henry’s suitcase to grab some clothes. He threw a pile of balled-up clothing at Henry’s chest and gestured for him to put it on.

“Yes, and you’re making us late. Get dressed and let’s go.”

Henry stepped into his briefs and pants before putting his shirt––the sweater he had received just yesterday. “What’s all this about, love? Where are we going?”

Alex rolled his eyes and handed him his toothbrush and toothpaste which he had, somehow, had ready to go like he had expected Henry to be lethargic and torturously slow-moving. Henry took them and moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth and Alex followed him like an eager puppy wanting to go out on a walk.

“I’ll tell you on the way, okay?”

Henry spat and washed his toothbrush. “We haven’t even had breakfast.”

Alex rolled his eyes and bounced on his heels. “I already got some and it’s waiting in the car. Now hurry up.”

Henry rolled his eyes but let Alex drag him out to the car in the driveway––a Jeep. At first, Henry tried to get into what Alex informed him was the driver’s seat.

“We drive on the right side of the road here,” he told him, gesturing to the other side where Henry was supposed to go.

Henry went around and got into the correct seat and buckled up. He wondered, briefly, if he should fear for his life. He loved Alex, truly, but his personality did not give Henry high hopes that he was a safe driver.

“Have you got a helmet or something in here?” Henry asked as Alex started to pull out of the driveway and down the street.

“What? Why?”  
“Oh, you know, just want to make sure I’m protected in case you get us into an accident.”

Alex swatted him on the arm and laughed. “Shut up, you bastard. Drink your fucking tea and let me do my thing.”

Henry looked down and saw two travel cups in the cup holders. He picked up the one closest to him and saw that, written in Alex’s messy scrawl on the side, was his name with a heart next to it. It was something so stupid and trivial but it made his heart clench in his chest and his eyes threaten to fill up with tears. It reminded him of that they day they went ice skating when Alex had greeted him with his tea and Jaffa Cakes. He looked over at Alex who was simultaneously driving and also peeking down at his phone to find a song on Spotify. He wondered if he should again apologize for how he had handled everything back then. If he should open his mouth and spew out incoherent thoughts about how much he loved him and how he wanted Alex to know that, no matter what happened when they parted, he would continue to love him and think about him and want him more than anyone he’d ever wanted in his entire life.

But Alex caught his gaze and smiled at him with a big, so-happy-Henry-could-cry smile and Henry just smiled back and sipped his tea. Alex was happier than Henry had ever seen him and there was no way that he would ruin it for him.

_There’s this anxious side of him, too. He’s pretty good at hiding it most of the time, but it’s always there._

Oscar’s words rang in his mind. He looked back over at Alex and wondered if this was just him hiding that anxious side of himself or if he was genuinely happy here. With Henry. Both of them together in America with the open road in front of them and caffeine in hand. Racing toward whatever was in store for them down the road.

“You got my tea right,” Henry told him instead.

“Pshh, course I did. Who do you think you’re dealing with here?”

Henry rolled his eyes fondly and looked out at the buildings rushing by. “Someone who’s kidnapped me and won’t tell me where we’re going even though they promised to tell me ‘on the way.’”

“Oh, shit, right,” Alex said, changing lanes. Henry noticed that they were getting on a motorway. He wondered why they were leaving Austin. “We’re going to my dad’s lakehouse. It’s secluded and beautiful. Better in the summer but I wanted you to see it. Also, if you check the seat behind you, there’s a bag of breakfast sandwiches and pastries.”

Henry reached back and found a bag filled to the brim with sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil and a lovely assortment of pastries. “You really do think of everything, don’t you? Would you like any of these?”

Alex glanced over at the bag and pointed to one of the sandwiches. “Sandwich, please.”

Henry handed him one of the sandwiches and opened the other. It was bacon, egg, and cheese on a delightful looking bagel. “What does one do at a lakehouse? Especially in the winter?”

“We don’t really have to do anything,” Alex told him, changing lanes while taking a bite of his sandwich. Henry wanted to tell him to please pick one or the other but he had the sneaking suspicion that Alex would continue to drive like a madman anyway. “We can just…I dunno. Hang out. Talk. Eat. We can go skinny dipping or something.”

“Why didn’t you want to stay in Austin?” Henry asked after a moment of letting the image of him and Alex swimming together (naked) play out in his mind.

Alex was silent for a moment before he sighed and found Henry’s hand, locking their fingers together and setting them down on his thigh. “It’s our last day here and I don’t know if or when we’ll ever be here together again so I wanted to show you a place that’s special to me. I––” he laughed and shook his head. “That’s so stupid. We can just go bac––”

“No,” Henry insisted. “I’m honored that you want to share such a special place with me. It’ll be nice to get away for the day. It’s been so bloody frigid in London that I haven’t been properly out in ages. I can hardly remember the last time I went anywhere near water.”

“I hope you like it. And we don’t even have to go in the lake if it’s too cold. We can just, like, have crazy sex and make drinks and watch movies or something.”

“The lake sounds brilliant,” Henry assured him. “Did you spend your summers there as a child?”

Alex nodded and took a bite of his breakfast sandwich. “My dad bought it when my parents got divorced. I think he wanted us to have a place to just be kids, you know? No drama, no fighting. Just swimming and boating and being stupid.”

Henry smiled at the thought of a young Alex seeking refuge at the lakehouse. Of a young Alex with wet curls and a big smile and a carefree attitude. He could just picture Alex by a fire with his sister and dad, stick in hand, roasting a marshmallow and looking up at the night sky. He wondered if Alex had ever truly been carefree. If the lakehouse somehow paused that anxiety in him, even just for a little while.

They carried out small, meaningless conversations for the rest of the drive. As soon as they pulled up to the beautiful home, Henry got their luggage––that Alex had somehow packed before Henry even woke up––while Alex bounded up to the front door to unlock it. It was adorable, really, how excited Alex was for this little adventure. It made Henry’s heart clench in his chest and his smile grow tenfold when he saw Alex open the door, turn around, and shoot Henry the happiest smile he’d ever seen. Henry eagerly followed him inside the house, closing the door behind him.

It was homely and gorgeous. Most of Henry’s life had been spent in his family estate which was far from personal. It was blank, boring walls and old, uncomfortable furniture. This home was filled with all sorts of personal touches, though. There were framed photos on practically every surface––ones that made Henry want to stop and commit to memory. There was one in the entryway of Alex sitting on the dock with a bottle of shiner in his hand and an infectious grin on his face that made Henry’s mouth go dry. Alex must have been a bit younger in the photograph but he still looked as gorgeous as ever with wild curls and sun-kissed cheeks.

“You coming?” Alex asked him, peering his head through the archway.

Henry nodded and tore his gaze away from the photograph. “Yes, sorry.”

Alex led him back to what he assumed was the master bedroom. He set the bags down on the bed and reached out for Alex’s hand, tugging him closer.

“Oh, hi,” Alex smiled, looking up at him.

Henry slipped his hand around Alex’s waist and kissed him softly. Alex quickly melted into it, one hand coming up under Henry’s jaw and the other finding its way into his hair. Henry pulled back after a moment and brushed their noses together gently.

“What was that for?” Alex asked in a whisper, his big eyes half-lidded and glazed over.

“I like you here,” Henry admitted.

Alex rolled his eyes. “We’ve been here for less than five minutes.”

“You seem… _lighter_. It’s nice.”

Alex smiled at him and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose which made Henry giggle. “I’ve always loved it here,” Alex explained, “but I never knew I could love it so much more by having someone here with me. Someone who isn’t related to me.”

Henry felt something well up in his chest. He couldn’t quite place the swirl of emotions––love, adoration, a touch of sadness at the thought of having to leave soon. He pushed it all down and rolled his eyes instead. “We’ve been here for less than five minutes,” Henry replied, imitating Alex’s accent.

Alex swatted him playfully. “You’re a dick. I take it all back.”

“You can’t. You’ve already said it and I’ve already tucked it away to think about later.”

Alex’s face reddened then morphed into a smirk. “Well, instead of just thinking, how about we go skinny dipping?”

That’s how, a few minutes later, Henry found himself laughing as he sprinted off the dock with Alex’s hand wrapped firmly in his own, both of them completely naked. The water was cool refreshing and as soon as they emerged, gasping for air and laughing uncontrollably, Alex leaned in and kissed him. In that moment, something slotted into place in Henry’s heart. How was he ever supposed to go anywhere without Alex? How was he supposed to return to grey skies and old buildings knowing that Alex would be across the ocean? Alex consumed Henry completely now––he was the other half of Henry's heart. He knew that, despite the beauty and tenderness of the present moment, going home would break him. It would tear apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but a giant aching hole in himself that could only be filled by Alex's lips on his own, Alex's smile, Alex's voice in his ear, the way Alex looked in the bright sunlight. Henry was truly fucked.


End file.
